


Choosing You

by Anogete



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gun Violence, Hydra (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kidnapping, Las Vegas Wedding, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Reading Aloud, Romance, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-07-30 07:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 154,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20093533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anogete/pseuds/Anogete
Summary: After HYDRA reemerges with new technology stolen from Tony Stark, General Ross agrees to extend amnesty to Steve and the others.  He's hesitant to include Bucky until he hears that Bucky is now a married man trying to start a family. The problem? Bucky is still in hiding in Wakanda, and he definitely isn't married. Natasha searches for and finds the perfect candidate for his fake wife in Darcy Lewis, who doesn't need much convincing.  Steve has a harder time talking Bucky into this charade.  Can Bucky and Darcy pull off a fake marriage without actually falling in love?  Can Bucky build a friendship with Tony that can overcome their past?  And what is Ross really up to?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! For the past two months, I've been slaving away at my computer as I wrote this fic for you. It follows canon all the way up to just before Infinity War. In my universe, Thanos didn't bust in with the Stones and eff everything up. Instead, we've got much more earthly problems--HYDRA and power-hungry individuals in the American government.
> 
> The first draft and most of the second draft is finished, clocking in at just over 153,000 words broken into 29 chapters and a short epilogue. I'll be posting at least one chapter each day. I may post more if my editing schedule allows for it. I give each chapter a final edit immediately before posting. I live in the Eastern US and tend to post the daily chapter between noon and 2 pm my time. I apologize in advance for blowing up your email if you have notifications turned on for me. Sorry, not sorry!
> 
> What can you expect if you proceed? A protective and fierce Darcy who drags her own baggage into the fake relationship with Bucky. A Bucky who was resigned to a quiet existence in Wakanda before a pretty girl with a nose piercing makes him start thinking about a real future. Interaction and eventually a developing friendship between Bucky and Tony. A cute, sassy, and smart Shuri who 'ships her adopted uncle Bucky with Darcy Lewis so hard. HYDRA rearing his ugly head with stolen Iron Man technology. A manipulative General Ross who has his own agenda when it comes to Bucky Barnes. An apartment in Manhattan and a road trip to a lakeside cabin getaway in Michigan. Bucky spending his free time systematically reading all of Darcy's favorite smutty romances on her Kindle and fantasizing about actually doing something with this knowledge. And a sloooooooow, slooooooow burn that won't resolve itself until you manage to get through well over 100,000 words.
> 
> The first four chapters are from Bucky's perspective with Darcy headlining the fifth. The remainder of the chapters alternate perspective between the two of them. The time/date is indicated at the beginning of each scene as we rejoin the characters. We'll be following these two for about four months or so. If you want to get into the nitty-gritty, then you should consider the time noted in the fic to be the local time of the country they are in at that moment.
> 
> **I'm terrible at tags and trigger warnings, but I think it's important to note that a suicide from the past is referenced in this fic. It doesn't involve any of the main characters and it doesn't happen in the fic, but it is discussed and what happened is told in general terms. If you think that might stop you from reading this fic, then you should send me a message on Tumblr (anogete) or an email (anogete527@yahoo.com). I can tell you what chapter that material is in and send you an edited version that removes what you might find painful.**
> 
> As always, the lyrics that begin each chapter are from my personal playlist of songs I had on repeat while writing this fic. I'll post a complete list with links to playlists on various platforms in an author's note of a future chapter.
> 
> A huge thank you to [bulmavegotaku](https://bulmavegotaku.tumblr.com/) for being a wonderful beta and for listening to my thoughts and giving me direction as I was trying to figure out how to handle the conflict in the latter half of this fic. I was trying to tie it up with a bow and she found the bow. Also, thank you to [ladyaudiophile](https://ladyaudiophile.tumblr.com/), [rachelladytietjens](https://rachelladytietjens.tumblr.com/), and [katetimes](https://katetimes.tumblr.com/) for their beta skills, their thoughts on how to make this fic better, and their feedback.
> 
> Feedback is love and food for my muse. I'd love to hear what you think in any way you'd like to tell me--comments, messages, emails. If you'd like to reach me on another platform, you can find me under the same name (anogete) on Tumblr and Instagram. If email is your thing, then you can scream at me by sending a message to anogete527@yahoo.com. Any constructive criticism should be emailed.
> 
> Now, onwards to the fic! I hope you enjoy the ride over the next few weeks. Let me know what you think. Thank you, my lovelies!
> 
>   
  


> _”Well, I never pray, but tonight I’m on my knees, yeah. I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah. I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind. I feel free now. But the airwaves are clear and there’s nobody singing to me now.” - The Verve (Bittersweet Symphony)_

**[June 4, 2018, 7:18pm]**

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice catching on the last syllable. Bucky picked up the glass of tepid water on the table beside him and took a long drink. His throat was dry and didn’t feel much better even after he’d downed more than half the glass. The man sitting across from him watched with hard eyes, presumably searching for deceit. He’d find none. Bucky _was_ sorry. Or maybe the man was just thinking of ways to kill him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried before.

“That all you got?” Tony Stark asked, lifting one brow.

Bucky closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. When he opened them again, he said, “No. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say. Nothing I tell you will change what happened or make it any better.”

“You remember crushing my mother’s windpipe?” His voice was as harsh as his gaze. Bucky watched as Tony leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his fingers clenched into fists.

“Yes,” he answered honestly. “I do remember. I can’t forget. It never goes away. _Never_. I remember every single target they sent me after, every single person who got caught in the crosshairs. I’d give my life to undo it. I know you don’t believe me, but that’s the truth, Stark.”

“What am I supposed to believe?” Tony’s words were spat out and filled with pain. It felt like there was a weight crushing Bucky’s chest, preventing him from getting a full breath of air. He’d been expecting the hatred and anger, but the pain in Tony Stark’s eyes cut so much deeper.

Blinking away the tears gathering on his lower lids, Bucky tried to breathe again. Half a breath, another half a breath. One more and maybe he could speak. “If I could change it, I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t. I asked the doctors in Wakanda to put me back into cryo after… after Siberia because you were right. I was a danger. I couldn’t trust my own mind.” Breathe, he thought. Just breathe through the tightness so you can keep talking. He needed Tony to understand his regret, his guilt, his sorrow. His pain. “I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, Stark. I’d do anything to take it back. Even if this doesn’t go anywhere… even if you…” Buck exhaled a shaky sigh. “Even if, I want you to know it wasn’t me. It was my body and my mind, but it wasn’t me. And I think about it every fucking day. I’ll never forget.”

Tony Stark set back in his chair and turned his head, eyes staring off to his left at something Bucky couldn’t see. The muscles in his jaw shifted as he clenched his teeth. There were unshed tears in his eyes, too. Bucky didn’t even know Tony, but he could feel the man’s pain. It was still raw after all these years. Just like Bucky’s pain. He might not know him, but they had one very big thing in common. And that thing had driven a wedge between them and everyone around them.

Bucky reached for the glass of water again. His trembling hand fumbled as he tried to close his fingers around it. The glass slid off the small table and shattered all over the marble floor. Tony jerked his head to look at Bucky.

“I dropped the glass,” Bucky explained. “I’m sorry, Stark. We… I have no right to ask you for forgiveness or acceptance or… whatever. Maybe this was a mistake. I’ll leave you alone.”

Tony reached up and pinched the hair right beneath his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, but he didn’t reply.

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “I’m sorry about your parents,” and leaned forward to hit the red button on the touchpad he’d left at his feet. The hologram of Tony Stark flickered before it disappeared completely. Suddenly, Bucky was alone in a small sitting room in T’Challa’s home. He looked down at the shattered glass on the floor before closing his eyes. Talk to Stark had been a mistake. Steve was pushing too hard, expecting too much from people.

* * *

**[June 10, 2018, 2:57pm]**

He’d been happy to see his old friend until Steve had smiled after they’d embraced, clapped Bucky on the shoulder, and said, “Good news. We’re close to a deal.”

Bucky shook his head and stepped away from Steve. “It’s best if I just stay here, punk.”

“Do you _want_ to stay here?”

He looked up at the blue sky over Wakanda. It was a beautiful, peaceful place. And, most importantly, it was a world away from everything he knew. Living there had allowed him to pretend like he had no past and, on most days, no future. He woke up, did his chores, and fell asleep to the sound of the insects that only sang at night. On good nights, he didn’t dream at all. Most nights were good nights, or at least they had been for the past year. “I like it here,” he told Steve.

T’Challa insisted Bucky join his family for dinner twice a month. Shuri visited him at least once a week and more times than not a group of little children were trailing after her, looking at him like he was an oddity. He’d been here for two years and the novelty of him hadn’t completely worn off yet. Bucky didn’t mind, though. The children weren’t afraid of him because they didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of.

“I know you like it here,” Steve said, hands resting on his hips. “But do you want to live here for the rest of your life?”

“That wouldn’t be terrible, Steve,” Bucky replied.

“I know that, too. I’m asking you what you want in the future. If you want to stay here then—”

“I don’t have a choice, Steve,” Bucky interrupted.

Steve looked at the ground between them as two men walked by to refuel the jet a few yards away. “You do have a choice,” he said after they were alone again. “Nat spoke to Tony yesterday. He wants to know the conditions.”

The comment about Tony rocked Bucky back on his heels. “What?” he asked.

“I thought you said the conversation with him didn’t go well,” Steve said.

“It didn’t. He’s not going to forgive me. What I took from him…”

Steve took a step closer and dropped his voice as three security guards walked by. “Tony is a good man. He’s not unreasonable. Whatever you said must have gained some traction because he told Nat he’s willing to consider it.”

“Consider what, exactly?” Bucky asked. “Not trying to kill me the minute I step foot outside Wakanda?”

“Yes,” Steve replied.

Bucky exhaled sharply and turned away from his friend, shaking his head. “This is insane, Steve. Go. Make your deal, go back to your life, be happy. I’m fine. This is a _good_ place, and I have a good life here.”

“You’re existing, Buck. You’re not living.”

“Says who?” Bucky asked, turning back around to face Steve.

“Me. T’Challa.” When Bucky made to turn away again, Steve said, “Shuri.”

That made him look over at his friend again.

“She’s worried about you. She says you isolate yourself, Buck.”

Bucky felt that churning in his stomach as emotions were dredged to the surface. She visited him each week out of duty because he wouldn’t reach out to anyone. He was a burden to her, and he shouldn’t be because he was already indebted to her for the help she’d given to remove the HYDRA programming from his head. “I’m fine,” he told Steve. “I just want to be left alone.”

“Do you?” Steve asked.

“Yes.”

“Buck, come on. Don’t you want a shot at actually living? We could use your help, you know. If you’re willing to lend a hand.”

“What can I help with? You need somebody killed? That’s my specialty.” He spat the words out and regretted them as soon as he saw the pain on Steve’s face. “Ah, fuck, Stevie. Don’t… I didn’t mean that.”

“I ain’t asking you to do anything you don’t want to, but things go sideways now and then. We still have terrorist pockets around the world. Some are HYDRA, some aren’t. We had a meltdown in New York a few years back when some interdimensional portal opened up. We had a near-miss with an A.I. that accidentally got a body right after.”

“Yeah, and HYDRA almost took over the country with helicarriers built by the Department of Defense. I know because I helped them.”

Steve tilted his head and sighed. “That wasn’t you and we both know it. I’m not asking you to make any of it right, Buck.”

“I know you ain’t, punk. I want to help, but… it’s so fuckin’ overwhelming. Don’t even know where to start. I thought talking to Stark would help, but… I can’t undo what was done. People ain’t as forgiving as you. Some people can’t move on.”

Steve’s laugh was bitter. “You think I’ve moved on? I struggle with it every day. It’s hard, but I gotta keep moving or I’ll go crazy. This world is so different than what I was used to, what _we_ were used to, but I can’t close my eyes to it.”

“You mean you can’t hide like me.”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t have the weight to carry you do. I don’t know how that feels,” Steve said, voice sharp.

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. “I know you mean well, punk,” he said, voice softer and more forgiving.

“Would you just hear me out? Let me tell you what they offered and how we think this would work. It would mean a lot to me, Buck.”

“Okay,” Bucky replied as resignation set in. “Let’s hear it.”

* * *

**[June 10, 2018, 4:10pm]**

“If they don’t want me here… If they don’t want me here, then I’ll go.” Saying the words and acknowledging that he might be unwelcome in Wakanda, a burden to T’Challa and his family—it was difficult and weighed heavy on him.

Steve sighed and lifted his leg to settle his ankle on the opposite knee. He sat back into the couch and said, “It ain’t about that. They’ve never said they don’t want you here.”

“Because we do,” T’Challa said, walking through the doorway. “Trust me, my little sister has been very upset with me for not coming to talk to you about this. You are welcome here as long as you would like to remain, but this cannot be a cage for you. You must have options.”

Bucky was seated on a low stool with his back hunched and his forearms resting on his knees. He had looked up when T’Challa had entered the room and saw the truth of what the man said in his eyes.

“If you stay here, then it has to be a choice,” Steve said, grasping onto T’Challa’s comment.

“Choices have been stripped from you for many years. You must rebuild and take them back,” T’Challa agreed.

Bucky sighed. “Staying here is a choice, isn’t it?”

“Not if you can’t be anywhere else,” T’Challa told him.

“I know you’re opening Wakanda to the outside world. If you’re worried about being pressured to extradite me then I can leave and go into hiding—”

“No,” Steve said.

T’Challa shook his head. “There will be no extradition, nor have I been asked. I know you see this as your sanctuary, but I fear it has become your cage. You do not leave your home; you do not speak to others. It is not healthy.”

“Everything is a cage,” Bucky replied. “Your title is a cage. Steve’s title is a cage.”

“We have choices, Buck. I can choose to—”

“Bullshit, Steve. You can’t choose to do anything other than what you’re doing because your conscience wouldn’t allow for it,” Bucky snapped back.

“And that’s my choice. Look, if we sort out the legal trouble and you’re free to live pretty much where you want and do or not do what you want, then… Then if you want to return here then… okay.”

“You will always have a place here, my friend,” T’Challa said. “Do not doubt that. But Steve is correct. If you have an opportunity to open the world to yourself, then you should take it even if the path leads back to this place.” All three men were silent for a moment before T’Challa added, “It is your choice, though. May this be your first choice of many.”

“So, what?” Bucky asked. “I just… fly back to the States and trust they won’t arrest me?”

“Ross is in a precarious situation,” Steve said. “He’s got some defense problems with Tony stretched thin. Vision was helping, but he disappeared seven months ago,” Steve said.

“Where is he?” Bucky asked.

Steve smiled. “With Wanda. The two of them… have a… Well, I guess they’re going steady.”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “First, you don’t have to be so awkward about it. Second, isn’t he almost a robot?”

“Not really. I—I don’t know what to call Vision. But, they seem happy and that’s what’s important.”

“So, what, you’re blackmailing the government to take you back by not allowing your team to help Stark?”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “We’re helping where we can, but not in the name of the United States government. It’s causing a public relations nightmare, apparently.” Laughing softly under his breath, Steve said, “It wasn’t our intention, but that’s the way it happened. They’re pressuring Clint and Scott Lang back into action. They were on house arrest, but Clint told me after the recent clusterfuck in Texas that he got some letter suggesting that his deal might change if he doesn’t step up to help.”

“He signed the Accords?”

“Yeah. Signing don’t mean much anymore, though. Vision signed and… he’s gone to ground.”

“So, the public wants the Avengers?”

Steve nodded. “Right. And we’re limited on how much we can help because if we step foot on American soil, then we’d be arrested. We can’t hurt or kill civilians to escape if authorities are sent to detain us. We even have to be careful in countries with friendly ties to the U.S.”

“What’s the deal again?” Bucky asked.

“Funded and overseen by the Department of Defense. We have to sign a contract that we waive our right to a public trial. If anyone disobeys orders, that person is subject to a military tribunal, half of which will be us.”

“Us?”

“You know what I mean. Me, Nat, Sam, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, Tony, Clint, Thor if he ever comes back. If it ends in a tie, then we make the final choice. We decide our own fate.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. “And I fit into this how?”

Steve let his ankle slip off his knee and leaned forward in his seat. “You were a special situation because of the past. Ross is concerned you’re a risk even though Shuri says she can provide proof you no longer have any of that junk inside your head. I told him there wouldn’t be a deal without you included.”

Bucky’s stomach churned at the thought of Steve throwing away so much for him again. “Steve, come on. You can’t… you can’t do that.”

“The entire thing almost fell apart because they thought you’d cut and run. They want us as far under their thumb as they can get us.” Even though the situation sounded terrible, Steve was smiling.

“You ain’t good at being under someone’s thumb,” Bucky told his friend.

“We just gotta let them believe we are. I can’t stand not being able to help, Buck. If letting Ross believe he has control over us allows us to help people, then… then okay. Anyway, during the last round of negotiations right before Sam set up that meeting with you and Tony, Natasha came with me to the meeting with Ross. She casually mentioned that you’re married and she didn’t understand why they’d be so worried about you cutting out if you were settled down with a girl and trying to start a family.”

Bucky exhaled a sharp breath that was only slightly more amused than disgusted. “I ain’t… that can’t… I’m not…”

“I know you’re not married, but Ross and his guys ate it up. They came back to us two days later with an offer. I told them they couldn’t make you fight with us. They said amnesty for you and no requirement to work with the Avengers as long as you sign the same agreement we’re signing that says you’re subject to a military tribunal if you violate any laws or orders.”

“And?” Bucky prompted.

“And you’d have to agree to weekly visits by their version of a parole officer to check in on you.”

“And when they find out I’m not married?”

“They won’t. We know someone who can help. I met her a couple of days ago.”

His stomach was in his feet and his chest wouldn’t expand all the way so his breaths were shallow. “Who?”

Steve smiled. “Her name is Darcy Lewis. We had a hell of a time finding someone who would work. It needed to be someone we could trust, but also someone who hasn’t been in the States much of the past couple years or it would seem like the marriage was a sham. Nat found her. She knows Thor and has been traveling with Jane Foster, an astrophysicist. Darcy’s record is clean and there isn’t much of a paper trail on her other than her passport getting stamped in several different countries over the past few years. It’d be believable that you two met and got married. T’Challa can fabricate the documents here. He’s already offered.”

“No,” Bucky said, his voice faint. He cleared his throat and said, “No,” again more firmly. “I can’t… I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean, Buck? You’d just have to live with this girl until they’re satisfied you aren’t a threat. A year, maybe a little more. She’s nice, friendly.”

“That’s a year of her life, punk.”

Steve shook his head. “She’s okay with it. She’s getting paid. I actually think you’ll like her.”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. He swept his gaze from Steve over to T’Challa. The other man was sitting in an armchair across from Bucky, his gaze steady and his head tilted slightly to the side. “We can provide a marriage certificate. We can stamp her passport. It would be official,” he told Bucky. “This is your choice, Barnes.”

“I can’t,” Bucky said.

“Yes, you can. You—”

“Steve, stop.” Bucky cut his best friend off with the sharp command. “Just stop. This is… It’s too much. I’m not worth all this. I’m fine here. That girl doesn’t need to put her life on hold for me. I don’t care what she’s gettin’ paid.”

“Bucky, we—”

“No, Steve. Why is this so important to you? Go. Make your deal. Make your deal for you and the others. Don’t hold out for me. I have a life here.”

“Buck, this isn’t any kind of life. They say you work all day and no one sees you except twice a month for dinner.”

“Maybe that’s the way I want it,” Bucky snapped, sitting up straight.

The silence in the room was thick. Bucky’s eyes were on the floor, but he could feel Steve and T’Challa watching him. The scrutiny made him anxious. Finally, Steve spoke up and said, “I miss you. You’re all I’ve got left of… you’re… I feel like it was only a few years ago, but all of them are gone. I got you back and now…”

Guilt slowly took over the pieces of his mind occupied with disgust for himself. “I ain’t going anywhere, Steve. I’m here. You’ve visited me like this before and you can again. I’m not… I’m not that guy you knew back then. Too much has happened.”

“I know that,” Steve said softly. “But you’re still my friend and… I want the best for you, Buck. I want you to have a chance to choose if you want to be here or not. If you want to help or not.”

“You know I want to help. I want to erase what I’ve done or tip the scales back. We’ve talked about that.”

“Then this is the first step,” Steve said. “I wish they weren’t putting you in the position where you’ve gotta lie about the marriage. I—I can go back and try to get them to budge, but… the cat’s already outta the bag, you know.”

“It’s not just about that. It’s… it’s everything,” Bucky replied. “I don’t know how to... live like that.”

“We’re capable of things we don’t think possible once we find we must accomplish them,” T’Challa said, his tone measured and understanding. “You did it once in Bucharest. I remember your apartment there. You were learning how to live again and you were in worse shape than you are now.”

“You’re asking me to learn how to live in New York, a city filled with people, with a dame I’ve never met sleeping in the same apartment. I don’t know how… I don’t know if I can do that.”

Steve gave him an understanding smile. “Just meet her, Buck. Meet her and if you don’t want to go through with it, then… then you stay here.”

They both glanced at T’Challa, who nodded in the affirmative. “You’ll always have a place here. I will not be bullied by the U.S. or any other country that would ask for your extradition.”

“Sleep on it,” Steve told him. “I’ll call you.”

* * *

**[June 11, 2018, 5:48am]**

Bucky’s sleep was broken and restless that night. After hours of staring at the thatching above his hut, he’d dozed off only to wake up mere minutes later from a vague nightmare he couldn’t remember. He’d sat up and slowed his breathing in the dark, feeling like he had a brick in his stomach at the prospect of the nightmares returning. He hadn’t experienced one for over five months. He’d thought they were done with him. Working the fields and tending to the livestock was hard labor and spending most of his day moving his body seemed to quiet his mind in ways he’d never been able to in Bucharest.

He’d tried to go back to sleep, but he would have only been able to catch a few minutes of sleep before waking up again. Well before the sun began its ascent toward the horizon, he went outside and sat in the high grass by the river. His mind was racing with thoughts on Steve’s plan to reintegrate him into society and wipe his record clean. Bucky found it difficult to trust anyone; the list of who he did trust was short. Steve, Sam, T’Challa, Shuri. No one else. Steve meant well, but he only saw the good in Bucky, not the bad. Other people saw the bad. What if he flew to the States and was met with cuffs and a one-way trip to the Raft? Steve would tear his life apart to make it right, and Bucky didn’t want to drag his friend down with him.

“Do you always get up at this awful hour, Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky closed his eyes when he heard Shuri’s voice behind him. She’d become like his little sister these past two years. He owed her a debt he could never repay, but she seemed to think his gratitude was silly. She’d been brushing it off since they had pulled him out of cryo and she’d fixed his head. “Good morning to you, too,” he said.

She walked over to stand beside him, casting her gaze out over the hazy water. “How are you feeling?”

Looking up at her, he said, “I don’t know.”

Shuri looked down at him, the light catching on the ornate gold jewelry at her ears and neck. The sky was pink and the sun was cresting the horizon. It would be a hot day. “I hope my brother told you that you’re welcome to stay if you wish to.”

“He did,” Bucky said. “Thank you.”

She stepped on the high grass growing next to him, flattening it out with her sandals before sitting down. “Do you think they are lying to you?”

Her question caught him off guard. “Steve?”

“No, the others. The American government.”

“Maybe,” Bucky conceded. “I trust Steve. I know he wants to help, but I don’t know if I want the help.”

“Don’t you want your life back?”

“My life is over.” The words were out of his mouth before he could censor them. People didn’t like when he said things like that even though he thought it all the time. His life _was_ over. He was just going through the motions here in Wakanda. It was peaceful and serene and he wasn’t unhappy, but he wasn’t living. He was existing.

Shuri nodded slowly. “You do act that way, don’t you, Sergeant Barnes? Insisting on staying here in this hut and never talking to anyone.”

“You know, you only call me Sergeant Barnes when you’re sassing me, Princess Shuri?”

She glanced over and smiled. Bucky liked when she smiled because her entire face lit up like she was a little girl. She reminded him of his sister when she smiled like that. His sister was dead. She died at the age of eighty-two in a nursing home in New Jersey. Bucky hadn’t been there for her. At the time, he’d been HYDRA’s most prized asset and wouldn’t have even been able to tell you her name.

“Your life is not over,” Shuri told him. “Steve Rogers transmitted the paperwork his government wants you to sign last night. My brother’s advisors are not too happy with me because I made them review it into the early morning.”

“And?” he asked.

“It’s exactly what your friend said it was. They’d be breaking laws if they violate it. Of course, it isn’t like they haven’t broken laws before—their own and others.”

They sat there in silence for a moment before Bucky said, “I’m more worried about everything else.”

“Oh, living, you mean?”

He chuckled softly at her taunting question. “Yeah, living. They want me to pretend to be married. I don’t… I haven’t been around people that much here. I don’t know if I can do that. They’re going to expect me to fight for them and… I don’t know...”

Shuri nodded. “Evil men ask others to fight their battles.”

Her words cut deeply into him. Bucky felt all the emotions—all the frustration and fear and anger and hopelessness—well up in him, tightening his chest and making it difficult to pull in a breath. Unshed tears threatened to spill over his lower lids. He tilted his face up to the sky and blinked them away.

“If they try to force you to fight, then you will come back here,” she said, voice matter-of-fact.

“Shuri, that would put your brother in a bad spot. I’m a diplomatic nightmare now and him harboring me would be even worse.”

“Wakanda can protect itself. You are a friend to us, Bucky. You are not asking; we are offering.”

His chest hurt so badly. “Shuri, you can’t—”

“We can and will.” She looked over at him and smiled again. “I spoke to the woman who will be your wife.”

Bucky’s laugh was strained and lacking any humor. He turned his head away from her for a moment. “I can’t do that. I can’t… I can’t ask someone to give up a year of their life for me.”

“I like her,” Shuri replied, ignoring everything he’d just said. She really could be a brat sometimes.

Sighing in resignation, he caved in to the little voice in the back of his mind that was curious about what woman Steve would pick, what woman would agree, and what woman Shuri approved of. “What’s she like?” he asked.

“Would you like to see her?” Shuri asked, grinning.

“No,” Bucky said, the answer almost jumping out of his mouth. “No. I’m not… I can’t do that.”

“You can’t see her?” Shuri asked, her expression some strange mixture of amusement and pity.

“I can’t go through with this,” he replied. “What she looks like doesn’t matter.”

Shuri lifted her hand, palm up, and pressed a button on the black band around her wrist. Bucky knew what she was doing, but he didn’t stop her and he didn’t look away. The curiosity was just too strong. A holographic photo hovered over Shuri’s open hand, showing a woman from the waist up.

She wore a brown cardigan over a white T-shirt with a cartoon cactus on it holding a balloon. It took a moment for him to register the clothes and wonder about the shirt because his attention immediately went to her mouth. Her lips were full and stained a soft red that completed her fair skin and blue eyes. Her hair was dark and hung in loose waves halfway down her back. And she had a little silver stud on her right nostril. It was delicate, but his eyes were drawn to it. She was looking off to the side, not actually at the camera taking her picture. She was also young, likely in her twenties, and pretty. He swallowed and looked away when his eyes dropped to her chest. Steve had said she was his type, and Steve would know. It was just silly to think of it that way. He wasn’t asking the girl on a date; she was getting roped into marrying him as cover.

“She’s pretty,” Shuri told him. It was a statement, not a question, so he didn’t respond, keeping his eyes on the reflection of the sun on the water. “Don’t you think?” Shuri asked.

“I can’t do it, Shuri,” he said, not daring to look again.

“She was friendly and funny. She thinks Steve Rogers is crazy for paying her to be your wife, but she says she doesn’t mind.”

“She wouldn’t be my wife. Not really.”

“She would.” Shuri pressed another button and the woman disappeared. In her place was what appeared to be a legal document. “We can backdate a marriage certificate here, but when you go to America, you’ll have to complete a form like this and submit the paperwork to have it legally recognized in your country. So, it will be real.”

“Someone should tell her this,” he said.

Shuri smiled. “She’s the one who told me. Do you think Captain Rogers is tricking her?”

“No.”

“She’s not stupid, Sergeant Barnes. She researched this. She understands what they are asking.”

“I… And she’s… she’s okay with it?”

“Obviously. Would you like to call her? I have her phone number here. She said she’d like to talk to you before anything is finalized.” Shuri held her hand up again.

“No,” he said quickly. “No, don’t. Please.”

She pulled a black band out of her pocket and held it out to him. “Your friend Steve says he will call you today. I told him you do not have a phone because you are crazy. So, here is your phone.” Shuri stood and looked down at Bucky. “I like her. I think you would like her, too.”


	2. Chapter 2

> _”So come on with the darkness, come on with the fear. ‘Cause I’ve gotta start somewhere and it might as well be here.” - Mineral (Parking Lot)_

**[June 13, 2018, 8:35pm]**

“I didn’t think you’d want to see me again.” Bucky’s comment fell flat and instigated no verbal response from Tony Stark. Instead, the other man stared back at the camera that captured and projected his image thousands of miles away.

Bucky hadn’t expected Steve to call that day to talk about Stark instead of this embarrassing marriage plan he’d concocted with Natasha. Apparently, Stark wanted to speak, which was more than a little surprising. Steve insisted he didn’t push Tony to reach out. In fact, Steve maintained that he and Tony weren’t really on speaking terms and the request to talk had been made through Natasha.

“I’m just trying to figure out why Captain Do-Good broke all the rules for you,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair and extending his leg.

Taking a moment to find an answer to what wasn’t even a question, Bucky looked down at the floor. When he lifted his gaze again, he said, “Since when has he ever followed rules?”

Stark exhaled a short breath of laughter out of his nose, his shoulders lifting up as he did it. “Why did he choose you over everything else?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“I’m not talking to him; I’m talking to you,” Tony replied, his voice sharp.

Bucky sighed, vacillating between being honest and just brushing off the question because it hurt. He wanted to know why Steve chose him, too. Why Steve _kept_ choosing him. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “He had a tough time as a kid. He was little, sick, weak. It was like his body couldn’t hold his personality. And when you’ve got a big personality and a puny body, you get attention from the kinda guys who just want a punching bag. I stuck up for him when we were younger. After his mom died… I don’t think he had anyone but me. We’ve always been like brothers. He was never just my friend; he was family and I’d do anything for him. And he did the same for me.”

Tony tilted his head back, looking down his nose at Bucky. “A lot has happened since the forties.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “But not for him. Sixty, seventy years in a blink.”

Tony’s chin dropped and his gaze slid off to the side.

“In his mind, I’d died less than two months before you met him,” Bucky said. “Everyone else he knew was dead or gone or dying. I was all he had, all that was left from back then.”

Tony sat forward in his chair resting his forearms on his knees as his head hung down.

“I ain’t telling you anything you don’t already know, Stark, but I don’t think you realize how hard it is to lose years like that. It’s so fucking confusing.” He paused and swallowed the lump in his throat so he could stay what he needed to say. “It’s so fuckin’ lonely.”

After a few beats of silence, Tony looked up and some of the anger in his eyes was gone. He nodded his head and sat back in his chair again. “What were your orders?”

The question threw Bucky off balance. “My orders?”

“My parents,” Tony said.

For a moment, he considered asking whether Tony really wanted to know the answer to that question, but he decided he should just answer it honestly instead of trying to walk on eggshells. “Obtain the case with the serum, kill the target, eliminate all witnesses.”

“The target was my father?”

“Yes. They wanted his serum but didn’t want him alive in case he’d broken Eskine’s formula. It was an arms race. If he was alive and knew how to replicate the serum, then he’d have more soldiers.”

“And my mother?”

“The witness,” Bucky replied even though they both knew it.

“Why didn’t you shoot her?”

Shaking his head, Bucky said, “I don’t… I don’t know. Probably because one gunshot was enough. Another and someone might realize the noise actually was a gunshot and come investigate. I… wasn’t driving at the time. I remember it all, but…”

“It wasn’t you,” Tony finished.

“It wasn’t me.” He winced, shaking his head. “I wish I’d died when I fell off that train. None of this… none of it would have happened. You and Steve would still be on good terms, you’d be… saving the fucking world or whatever you do.” Bucky gave a weak laugh before running his hand roughly through his hair. “I’m sorry, Stark. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am.”

“Yeah, I know you are,” Tony said with a sigh. He leaned his head back and dug his fingertips into his eyes as he rubbed them. “Fuck.”

“Steve respects you. He wants to talk to you,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t feel that way when he was using the edge of his shield to destroy my power source so I’d be helpless.”

“He didn’t want to kill you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know that, too,” Tony snapped. “But he was my fucking friend. We… we’ve been through so much and he just…”

Bucky could barely stand the weight of guilt pressing down on him. His heart felt so heavy in his chest that he wondered if it was going to drop into his stomach. “Don’t blame him, Stark. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not the fucking problem, Barnes,” Tony snapped. “This whole situation is the problem. All this… bullshit. It just… sucks.”

Sitting forward in his chair, Bucky curled over on himself. He stared at the floor between his feet as the two of them sat there in silence. Finally, he looked up and said, “I know you think I came between you two. I didn’t… I don’t want that. I’m not trying to—”

“Stop,” Tony said, holding up a hand. “You’re making this weird because it sounds like you think I’m dating Rogers.”

Bucky hung his head and chuckled again. Hearing Tony also laughing softly across the room just made him laugh harder. It wasn’t funny, but there was just something so ridiculous about the situation that they couldn’t seem to help themselves.

As they sobered up, Bucky used his thumb and forefinger to wipe any wetness from his eyes. “You’re still his friend, Stark. Doing what he did—it hurt him.”

Tony leaned back in his chair and kicked out a leg. “Yeah, well, he didn’t have to hobble back to Pepper with a busted suit and a story about getting my ass kicked.”

“You ripped off my arm,” Buck replied.

“You deserved it,” Tony told him, waving a hand through the air dismissively. “But maybe you didn’t deserve to die, so… Maybe I can forgive that asshole for costing me a pretty penny when he damn near destroyed my suit.”

“I think that would mean a lot to him, Stark.”

Tony leveled his gaze on Bucky and said, “What about you?”

“What about me?” Bucky asked.

“Aren’t we talking because I’m supposed to forgive you?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness. Wouldn’t turn it down, but I can’t ask for something like that after what I did. I’m just asking… Well, I guess I’m asking if you could leave me be.”

“Nat says they’re working on a deal with some government cronies to get back into good graces and you’re part of the deal.”

“Apparently.”

“So, you’re saying you’re coming back and you don’t want me to rip your new arm off,” Tony said, nodding at the vibranium arm Shuri had attached about nine months ago.

He’d been unsure about the arm at first, but having two hands helped with the chores. Plus, it worked and looked much better than the one HYDRA had saddled him with. “I don’t think I’m coming back. I’m in Wakanda right now.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell me that. I heard your buddy Steve is worried I was going to hunt you down.”

Bucky gave the other man a wry smile and shook his head. “I don’t think you’d do that, but it’d be within your rights, I guess.”

“I don’t have the coordinates to Wakanda and they still keep that place under lock and key.”

“And if they didn’t?”

“Too far to go for that old of a grudge. We’ll have a fight night if you come to New York, though.”

Bucky chuckled at Tony’s dry sense of humor. Of all the things he’d expected from the conversation, none of them had been to walk away actually liking Tony Stark. “Guess I better stay outta New York, then.”

* * *

**[June 14, 2018, 11:37am]**

“Steve, I don’t think this is a good idea. You’re playing with someone’s life. This isn’t just about me.”

Steve’s face was hovering over Bucky’s hand as the small device Shuri had left him projected his friend’s image just a few inches high. “She’s being paid; it’s a job. She knows what she’s doing, Buck. Trust me on this one. She’s isn’t some shy, young girl who doesn’t understand how things work.”

“She has a silver thing in her nose,” Bucky said.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, she does. How did you know?”

“Shuri. She had a picture. Said she spoke to her. I assumed you gave her the info.”

“Yeah, I did. I thought she was going to give it to you, not interview Darcy herself.”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah? Well, you don’t know her very well, then.”

“What’d she say?”

“Shuri?” He shrugged. “She said she liked her. That she’s pretty.”

“Like I said, she’s your type. No one would question the two of you being married,” Steve said. “Darcy, uh, she kinda handed me my ass on the marriage thing, though. I told her it would be fake. She told me that the Wakanda papers might be fake, but when they translate to the US, it’d be real.”

“That bother her?”

Steve shook his head. “No. She just wanted to be clear that it would be legally binding. Asked if you wanted a prenup.”

“A prenup?”

“Prenuptial agreement. You both sign saying that if you get divorced that she doesn’t get half of what you’ve got or vice versa.”

“She wants me to sign one?”

Steve laughed. “No. She says she doesn’t have anything for you to take other than student loan debt. She wanted to know if you wanted her to sign one.”

“What? No.”

“So, you’ll do it, then? You’ll marry her?”

“No, I didn’t—” Bucky stopped short and sighed. He needed to avoid responding to people like he was actually considering this crazy plan. He couldn’t. It was… too much to ask and he was terrified of the prospect of finding his way again in the States. “I’m not doing this, punk.”

Steve didn’t reply right away. After a moment of silence, he said, “Tony called Nat yesterday. Says he wants to meet… and talk.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asked.

“I guess that means your last conversation with him went… okay?”

“Yeah. It was fine. I think we understand each other and I don’t think he’s going to rip another one of my arms off.”

Exhaling, Steve said, “Good. Good. Listen, think about Darcy and the plan. Don’t just discount it. She says she’s looking forward to the paycheck. I think you’d be doing her a favor, to tell you the truth.”

Bucky shook his head, but he said, “Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it. No promises, though.”

* * *

**[June 16th, 2018, 5:12pm]**

“Are you _hiding_ in here?”

Bucky looked up from his plate of food to see Shuri push aside the covering over his door and walk inside. She was wearing some sort of graphic T-shirt with a band or movie he was unfamiliar with. He was unfamiliar with almost all music released after nineteen-forty-three when he was shipped off to Europe during the war. The gold bangles on her wrist made a tinkling noise as she dropped the thick covering over the doorway.

“My brother sent me to invite you to dinner,” she said, looking at his plate. “It’s barely five o’clock. Who eats at five o’clock?”

“I do,” Bucky said, looking down at the food and then back up to her. “I like to go to bed early.”

“So that you can get up before the sun even rises.” She shuddered. “It’s unnatural.”

“Did you want something, Princess?”

“I know you only call me Princess when I’m annoying you, you know.”

He smiled at her. “That’s why I do it.”

She flipped him off but did it with a smile before sitting down in the chair across from him. “So, it’s been a few days. Your friend Steve told my brother you haven’t answered his last two calls.”

“Is the royal family gossiping?” Bucky asked, poking at his food now that she’d destroyed his appetite.

“Don’t sass me, Sergeant Barnes. Have you made a decision?”

He didn’t need to ask her what decision she was referring to. There was only one. Would he play ball with the U.S. government and return to New York? If he did, then he’d have to get married. To a stranger. To that woman with the dark hair and pretty eyes who had a delicate silver stud affixed to her right nostril. He’d thought about it all day as he tilled the field of a nearby farm. “No,” he told her.

“No, you haven’t made a decision?”

“Shuri, I can’t do it,” he said.

“Do you want your life back?”

“No. Yes. I mean, I… I’m not that person any longer. This is my life now. It’s a perfectly fine life.”

She snorted and sat back in the chair, crossing her arms. “And my mother tells me _I’m_ stubborn. She hasn’t spent enough time with you.”

“I cannot make that dame do this for me,” he told Shuri.

Unfolding her arms, she extended her hand, palm up. “Let’s call her and ask—”

“No,” he said, reaching out and putting his hand over the black band on her wrist. “No.” When she lowered her hand to the table, he pulled away and sighed. “I’m terrified,” Bucky admitted.

“Of what?”

He shook his head. “Of trying to… of trying to be me again… me again _there_.”

Shuri raised her brows. “You again?”

“I’m not explaining it right. There aren’t any expectations here and there… There will be expectations there. I’m going to feel like I need to fight and help and I don’t know how everyone is going to feel about that. I don’t know if they’re going to be okay with it… with me.”

“Who? Tony Stark?”

“And everyone else. They don’t know me like Steve. I’m no one to them and they have every reason to distrust me.”

“You don’t have to fight. I read the paperwork.” She paused. “Well, I didn’t read it, but I made my brother’s advisers read it. They all told me there is no obligation for you to—”

“But I’ll _feel_ obligated. I can’t just turn my back. If I do this, then I’ll feel like I need to help to balance out all the things I did in my past. I can’t change them, but I can try to…”

“I understand,” she told him. “Throw this slop you’re eating in the trash and come have dinner with us.”

“Pass?” he asked, not really feeling like being around anyone.

“You’re not allowed to pass on this one,” she replied.

“Yes, Princess.”

“You know, if you keep patronizing me, I’m going to make your new arm punch you in the face again.”

He laughed softly as they both stood.

* * *

**[June 16th, 2018, 6:49pm]**

Dinner was tedious, but that was probably because his mind was elsewhere. He was always invited to dine with T’Challa’s family, but usually only came when Shuri insisted. She got her way a couple of times a month and today was obviously one of those days. His mind shifted anxiously from the conversation at the table to darker places where he thought about things like guilt over hiding from his responsibility to help make things right after all the terrible things he’d done. Or how he was overwhelmed at the prospect of finding his way in the world again after those dark two years in Europe. Or how he was letting his best friend down by cutting himself out of Steve’s life and hiding in Wakanda. Or why a pretty girl named Darcy was willing to pretend to be his wife—to actually marry him—in order for him to begin the process of getting some semblance of a life back beyond his exile in Wakanda.

Everyone was right; he was loath to admit it, though. He was in Wakanda by necessity, not by choice. That didn’t mean he did not love the country and the people. It didn’t mean he hadn’t found some kind of contentment and peace. It just meant he was there because he couldn’t be anywhere else. And if he could be elsewhere, would he? Maybe. Maybe that was what T’Challa was trying to say. He should open the world back up for himself and if that road led back to Wakanda, then that was his answer.

She would be getting paid, he thought. _That’s_ why such a pretty girl was willing to help provide cover for him to move back to the States. He wondered how much Steve had to offer her to get her to agree. Probably a lot. A hundred thousand a year? A million? Did Steve even have that kind of money? Bucky had no idea. Surely his bank accounts had been locked down as soon as he went rogue and broke the others out of the Raft. How was Steve able to afford this anyway?

Bucky was preparing to excuse himself now that they were enjoying after-dinner drinks when Shuri walked into the room, her eyes bright and searching for him. When had she left? He hadn’t seen her leave.

“You have a call,” she told him, nodding toward the doorway. Down the hall and halfway down another adjoining hallway was the room he’d used to speak with Tony Stark. It was small, mostly devoid of furniture with the exception of a table along the wall, two chairs on either side of the door, and the single armchair and side table that you sat in to make the holographic call. The camera was above, pointed down at the chair and giving the person on the other end a view of a two-foot radius around the seat. The opposite wall was dark so the holographic image of the other person would be easily visible. T’Challa used it for talks with other world leaders but seemed to have no qualms allowing Bucky to use it in an attempt to mend fences with Tony Stark.

“Who?” he asked, furrowing his brows at Shuri.

“Who do you think?” she asked.

“Stark?” he wondered aloud. Tony was the only person he’d spoken to in that room. No one else would be calling him here. Steve didn’t have access to the equipment to transmit in such a manner.

“Come on,” she said. “Time’s wasting.”

The impatient wave of her hand as she stepped into the hallway propelled him out of his chair. “Why would he be calling? I didn’t think he/d have anything more to stay to me. He needs to talk to Steve.”

“Go,” she said, pushing him on the shoulder as he passed by her.

Bucky heard her and T’Challa fall into step behind him, but he tuned them out as he walked down the hall, lost in his own thoughts. What if Stark was calling to say he took back everything he’d said during their last conversation? What if he was calling to put Bucky on notice that he was coming to Wakanda to finish their argument? Would one of them die? What would Steve do?

He could hear the rush of blood, pulsing with the beat of his heart. He’d thought they were okay. Not good, not done, but okay. A truce for now. Steve had even mentioned that he and Stark agreed to meet in a neutral location. Bucky hadn’t asked for the particulars because he was too consumed by thoughts of what he should do with his own life or lack thereof.

This all felt like a dream, like it was just inside his head even though he knew it wasn’t. He stopped in front of the door and inhaled before he reached for the knob. T’Challa’s hand came up and pressed against the door, preventing Bucky from opening it. “Barnes? Barnes, can you hear me?”

“What?” Bucky asked, shaking his head to clear the fuzzy gauze his thoughts sometimes threw over the world, making things hazy and distant as he receded into himself.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention,” T’Challa told him.

“Why?”

“It is not Tony Stark on the com for you,” T’Challa said. “Shuri is meddling and she allowed you to believe it was.”

“Who is it?” Bucky asked. “Steve?”

“Darcy Lewis.”

“What?” Bucky asked, pulling his hand away from the doorknob so quickly he stumbled back a half-step.

“She thought she was doing the right thing by tricking you, but…” T’Challa sighed and reached out a hand to grip Bucky’s shoulder. “I value your trust and won’t be party to these childish games. Shuri called her and told her you wanted to speak. She is the one who would act as your wife, yes?”

“Yes.” Bucky’s answer sounded like a frog’s croak.

“Do you wish to speak with her?”

“No. No, I… I can’t.”

“You can!” Shuri yelled from a few steps away.

“I can’t,” he told her.

“Stop being a coward, Sergeant Barnes,” Shuri told him. “You told me you didn’t want to make her do this. Well, why don’t you talk to her about it? Maybe you’ll feel differently.”

“Do you _want_ me to leave?” he asked, stepping away from Shuri and T’Challa.

“No, I don’t want you to leave, idiot. But you’re miserable here. I didn’t create that algorithm to deprogram HYDRA’s conditioning so you could sit in your hut and eat dinner by yourself after doing farm work all day. I didn’t create that arm so you could hide here for the rest of your life and hate yourself.”

“I don’t—” Bucky choked on the words he was about to say. “I don’t… hate myself.”

“You act like it, Sergeant Barnes,” she told him.

“I’m done with life. There’s a difference.”

T’Challa reached out for him, but he took another step back. “Barnes,” T’Challa said, furrowing his brows. “You’re meant for more than this.”

Bucky felt his shoulders slump at the weight T’Challa’s comment put on him. “I don’t want to be meant for anything. I don’t want to fight; I don’t know if I can,” he admitted, reaching out to brace himself with a hand on the wall. His stomach was churning and it felt like his body was eating itself alive.

“There are more purposes than the shedding of blood.”

“Not for me,” Bucky said. “Not for me.”

“Bullshit,” Shuri said, closing the distance between them. “You’re just afraid to try.”

“So? What if I am? What if I try and find out that’s all I am?”

“All you are?” she asked.

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. His ears were roaring and he knew it was blood even thought it sounded like a hurricane. “A fist, a gun, a man who strangles an innocent woman because she was in the way.” Was he even still standing? Were his knees locked?

T’Challa’s hand was on his shoulder, so he assumed he was still upright even though all he could see was the pinched look on Shuri’s face. “That was _not_ you. I should know because I’m the one who went rooting around in there to remove the triggers.”

“You’re too forgiving,” Bucky told her.

“You’re too stupid,” she shot back. “You’re a good man.”

T’Challa’s fingers tightened, squeezing the muscles in Bucky’s right shoulder. “She’s right, Barnes. You cannot let the past define you. You must look forward, move forward.”

“I don’t know how.”

“You do. You’ve already done so.”

“At a snail’s pace,” Shuri added.

“Shuri,” T’Challa snapped, “have some mercy and some patience.”

“How about some tough love for my adopted uncle who seems determined to waste his life tending to goats?”

Bucky exhaled, his chest deflating. “Adopted uncle?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied, giving him a haughty look, her chin up and her eyes rolled to the side. “Don’t act like we aren’t practically family.”

Her comment and the irritation behind it made him smile. When he looked up, he saw that T’Challa was smiling, too. “We see more in you than you see in yourself. You will fight only if you choose to, but that is not all you are, Barnes,” the man told him.

Bucky rolled his shoulder to break T’Challa’s hold. Once free, he leaned back against the wall, bracing himself and pulling in two deep breaths. “I don’t know if I can talk to her. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“She’s not expecting an answer from you, idiot. I told her you want to talk to her to see how she feels about what Steve is asking her to do,” Shuri said. “You told me that you couldn’t do this because you didn’t want to put her in this position. I thought you should actually ask her what she thinks about what she’s agreed to before you start deciding how she feels.”

“Shuri,” T’Challa said, his voice warning her.

“Shut up, brother.”

“Hey, don’t—”

“Don’t talk to your brother like that,” Bucky finished for the other man.

She rolled her eyes and lifted a hand.

“If you make that vulgar gesture at me…” T’Challa warned.

She smiled sweetly and flipped up her middle finger.

Bucky couldn’t stop himself from chuckling softly.

“I’m glad someone finds amusement in this blatant disrespect,” T’Challa said. The lift at the corners of his mouth belied his serious tone.

Shuri crossed her arms and tapped her foot on the ground. “She’s waiting, you know.”

Bucky felt his stomach drop at the mention of the woman who was currently being projected inside the room to his left. If he opened the door, then it would look like she was sitting there, waiting for him. The holograms were so realistic it was unnerving. “Shuri…” Bucky said with a sigh.

“She’s nice, Bucky. I _like_ her. I think you will, too. She’s not expecting anything from you. This isn’t a blind date. Think of it like an interview for a job.”

“Who is interviewing? Me or her?”

Shuri shrugged. “Figure it out.”

“That doesn’t help,” he told her.

“Just go talk to her. You don’t have to agree to anything.”

“She’s right, Barnes,” T’Challa said. “Perhaps talking to her will give you some clarity on the situation.”

He knew he should just do it. What could a conversation hurt? She wasn’t even real; she was a hologram. The chances of him actually following through with this was slim, so she’d probably never be real, not for him at least. “Fine,” he said. “Fine.”


	3. Chapter 3

> _”All around your island there’s a barricade that keeps out the danger but holds in the pain.” - Tom Petty (Walls)_

**[June 14, 2018, 7:02pm]**

Bucky shut the door before he looked up. She was sitting in a chair, as real as if she were sharing the room with him. She had on a pair of jeans that fit her like a second skin, and his gaze tripped up at the way they stretched tight over the thigh of her right leg. It was crossed over the left. Her foot, encased in a burgundy shoe with white laces, was absently flipping up and down to some unknown rhythm. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat as he took in a faded cream T-shirt that had blue and orange text proclaiming, “Star Wars 1977” in large block letters. The W and S of wars were distorted by the swell of her breasts pushing against the thin fabric.

Her hair was swept to one side and she was worrying her full lower lip with her teeth. Those blue eyes were staring at the chair in front of him. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized she couldn’t see him, at least not yet. The camera only captured a two-foot circle around the chair. Instead of moving forward, he leaned back against the door and swept his gaze over her again, taking in the way her dark hair looked against the fair skin of her face and the way her index finger absently rubbed the knee of those tight jeans. She was prettier than he’d thought. Far too pretty with far too much intelligence in those blue eyes to agree to chain herself to him for a year. Why? Surely she didn’t need the money that desperately.

Curiosity propelled him from the door to the chair. Before he stepped into the circle, he exhaled a shaky breath and used the elastic on his wrist to tie his hair back into a low knot at the base of his skull. She shifted in her seat and sat up a bit straighter when he dropped into the chair directly across from her. Those perfectly-shaped lips parted as her gaze swept down and then up his body. It made him feel self-conscious and exposed.

“Hi,” she said, her voice all breathy. She gave him a smile that, while genuine, looked nervous. “I’m, uh, Darcy. Darcy, uh, Lewis.” Her right hand was flat on the top of her thigh now. He watched her slide it up to where her leg met her hip and then slide it right back down to curl over her knee. Her attention was focused on him; the caress of her leg was probably subconscious, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away.

After an embarrassingly long silence in which he attempted to get his brain back on track, he said, “I’m… Bucky.”

She smiled at him again and this time the nerves were less and the warmth behind her expression made his chest tighten. It wasn’t until then that he realized he’d been expecting a woman who had a contract in her hands and dollars in her eyes. The woman sitting in front of him didn’t look like she was here for the salary, whatever Steve was paying.

“Hey,” she said, nodding her head. “I, uh… The arm is cool.” Darcy lifted her hand that had been curled around the seat of her chair and gestured vaguely in his direction.

Bucky looked down at his left arm like it wasn’t even attached to him. “Thanks,” he said, looking back up at her. “You… you like that movie?” he said, feeling dumb as he pointed at her shirt.

She did the same thing he’d done, glancing down at herself. “Oh,” she said, nodding again. “Yeah, it’s good. I like retro shirts, old stuff. Classics.”

His mind was divided right down the middle. Half of him wanted to draw her out and ask her questions that would reveal who would agree to some crazy plan like this. The other half of him wanted to run like hell. She liked old things from nineteen-seventy-seven. What did that make him? Ancient? “Why?” he asked her.

“Why do I like Star Wars?”

“Why did you agree to this?” he insisted, barreling forward with the blunt line of questioning. He’d lost his ability to finesse interactions with people around the time he lost his sense of self under HYDRA control.

She pulled in a deep breath, her chest rising, straining against that tight shirt. What was he thinking? What was she thinking? What was Steve thinking? His _wife_? Just considering it made his stomach flip over. Could he actually look at someone and tell them the pretty girl sitting there was his _wife_?

“I… don’t know, actually,” she told him with brows lifted and eyes wide. She was an open book, nothing deceptive to be found, no ulterior motives lurking below the surface. At least there were none he could detect. Maybe she was good at hiding them, better than anyone he’d ever met. “I just… Well, I’ve been working with Jane for a few years and Steve called us up and asked if I’d meet with him. He and Natasha and Sam came to Norway where we’ve been for the past couple months and met with me. I was pretty starstruck at the time. I mean… he’s Captain America and all.”

His stomach dropped in what felt suspiciously like disappointment. Was she in this for Steve? Bucky knew his friend had a tendency to inspire passion in most women. In fact, every guy next to Steve was pretty much invisible. She must be doing this to get in Steve’s good graces. Why was that disappointing to him? He should be relieved he’d finally found her angle.

“Do you know they still show those videos he recorded about eating your veggies and minding your manners in school? So embarrassing.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “Anyway, they didn’t tell me what the job was or anything, but I knew it was probably something a little shady since they are enemies of the state or whatever. I mean, the whole Raft business is pretty much bullshit. I mean, what the hell, right? Another Guantanamo, but this time even sketchier. No thanks.”

“What?” he asked, struggling to keep up with the way the words just cascaded out of her mouth like some strange music he couldn’t quite understand even if he liked the sound of it.

“What?” she repeated, furrowing her brows. Before he could respond, she waved away the question with a flippant swipe of her hand through the air and continued with, “They asked me a load of questions and then left. I got a call the next day from Sam who asked if they can see me again. I met them at the hotel they were staying at. They’re, like, incognito, right?” This made her smile. “Baseball caps and hoodies like they were slick or something. Your boy Steve is so not able to blend in. It’s pretty sad, actually. Anyway, so, we sit down in an empty meeting room and they tell me about your situation and how you need cover to meet our shitty government’s arbitrary requirements.”

“Cover?”

She widened her eyes at him. “Yeah. They told them you were married, right?”

“Right.”

“So, they say you need a wife and don’t have a wife and would I be willing to give up a year to play house with you.”

She didn’t seem too hung up on Steve any longer. In fact, she seemed dismissive for someone Bucky had convinced himself was secretly in love with his best friend just moments before. “Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “How much is Steve paying you?”

“You don’t know?” she asked, appearing actually surprised.

“No.”

“Uh, at first it was room and board and a grand a month. They sweetened the deal a couple of days ago by offering to wipe out my student loans.” She drummed her fingers on her knee. Her nails were short and painted bright blue. “I honestly don’t know how they’re going to take care of the loans. Those puppies are out of control to the tune of almost a hundred grand. Higher ed is a racket, man.”

He did the math in his head. “A hundred and twelve thousand and a place to live for a year.”

She nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“And that’s… enough?”

Darcy gave him a confused and amused expression, brows furrowed and one side of her smile lifted up higher than the other. “Uh, for sure. I’d agreed to it for a place to live and a grand a month. Taking care of the loans was a bonus.”

“You’d what?”

“The loans were icing on the cake. I’m looking for a change. It’s like the universe just… aligned. You need a change; I need a change.”

“I… I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted.

She opened her mouth and then snapped it closed. For a moment, it looked like he might have hurt her feelings. With her cheeks tinged pink, all the open energy she was throwing out collapsed into her and disappeared. She gave him a tight smile and said, “Oh, okay. I… Okay. Princess Shuri said you wanted to talk to me. I, uh, I guess this was my interview. I’m sorry. I babble when I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” he asked. “I’m not even there. Not really. We’re thousands of miles apart.”

“I wanted to make a good impression.” She reached up and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Which I obviously did not do.”

“No,” he said before he could even think about how he was going to respond to that. “I… It’s not that. It’s…” Bucky shut his mouth and clenched his teeth together.

“No, I get it. It’s fine,” Darcy said, wrapping both arms around her midsection, almost hugging herself as she curled her shoulders in. Watching her physically close herself off inspired some strange sense of panic in him. It felt like she was slipping away. Why did that make him anxious? He didn’t even want this. Not with her, not with anyone. He just wanted to be left in peace.

“It’s not you,” he said, finally grasping onto some combination of words that would take the burden off her.

She gave him a wry smile, all lips and sad eyes, no teeth or genuine humor. “It’s okay. It was crazy anyway. I hope you find the right fit for your pretend wifey.”

Bucky opened his mouth to tell her that she’d be perfect, but he didn’t know how to play the role of husband or anything else other than a broken and hiding man. How could he make her understand that?

“Uh, good luck and stuff,” she said. “I hope things work out for you.”

“Why would you give up a year of your life to do this?” he blurted out, hoping it would be enough to draw her back in just a little bit. “Money?”

“Well, sure. But I… I’ve been traveling a lot. Like _a ton_ and it’s getting old. Jane—that’s my boss—she and I are like sisters and family can get on your nerves when you’re around them too much. I just want something different. And I loved drama club when I was in high school so acting might be interesting. And Steve made you out to seem really nice and, like, in need of help. Sooooo… yeah. Whatever. I thought it’d be fun in a really weird way. You know?”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know. You don’t even know me and you’re willing to live with me? Lie for me?”

“Lying for a good cause is called acting, I think.” She uncrossed her legs and put both feet flat on the floor, but kept those arms wrapped around her body.

He exhaled a short breath of laughter. “Is that what it’s called? And this is a good cause?”

“Sure. Sam told me about you, about what you’ve been through or whatever.” She must have seen him tense. Maybe it was the way the muscles in his jaw jumped when he was under pressure or the set of his shoulders because he wanted to physically collapse in on himself just like she’d done a moment ago. Sometimes he wished he could just fold himself up and disappear. She must have caught onto him already because she stopped talking and pressed her lips together, gaze shifting off to the side as she considered how to proceed. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I… They offered me a file with your… history in it. I didn’t look, but Natasha said I needed to know so Sam told me what was in it. They didn’t ask you if that was okay, did they?”

Bucky’s heart felt like it was beaten up and bruised in his chest, aching with every beat. Why was she being this way with him? Tenderness made him fall apart nowadays. It was why he liked Steve and T’Challa and Sam and even Shuri. They didn’t look at him the way she was looking at him. They didn’t ask questions like that. They just treated him like he was functioning and sane and that made him feel like maybe he was going to be okay. “No, they didn’t,” he managed to say through the thick gobs of emotion stuck in his throat, blocking his air. “They didn’t need to.”

“Well, they probably should have let me interview with you first to see if you even wanted to… hire me before they spilled the beans about your life and shit. I mean, I know who you are, but I didn’t know all that other stuff. The details about HYDRA. That sucks, dude. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t. Please, don’t. I’m not picking… This isn’t… This isn’t an interview.”

She unfolded her arms and clasped her hands together in her lap. “Then why did you want to talk to me?”

The way she was sitting pushed her upper arms right up against her breasts, accentuating them and making the collar of the shirt gap and reveal an inch of cleavage. _Wife_. That title had connotations about the type of relationship he was supposedly sharing with her. Those thoughts kept bouncing around in his brain, making his eyes linger on parts of her that he had no right to look at, regardless of who she was to him. The fact of the matter was that even if he said she was his wife, he couldn’t have anything else. It was just hard to not think about playing house with her and sharing a bed. They wouldn’t do that, though. Couldn’t do that. He’d sleep on the couch.

“Bucky?” she asked.

He shook his head in a physical attempt to clear those thoughts away. What had she even asked him? “What?”

“Why did you want to talk to me if this wasn’t an interview?”

“I don’t know. Shuri… Shuri told me I should talk to you because I thought you were being roped into something you… something you didn’t…”

She gave him a warm smile. “Didn’t want to do? No, I’m not being forced to do anything. They all told me not to feel obligated when they asked. I said yes. Honestly, I can’t give you a pros and cons list. I didn’t make one. It just… felt like something I should do so I figured… what the hell. Right? You sound like a good guy and… well, from what I’ve seen you are a good guy. It blows that you were forced into hiding because of circumstances or whatever. So, if I can help and get a pass on my student loan debt then… yeah. It wasn’t even a hard decision.”

“It should have been. You shouldn’t trade your freedom for mine.”

Darcy gave him a quizzical look. “My freedom? Are you gonna lock me in the apartment we’re supposed to live in?”

“You wouldn’t be able to… date.”

This made Darcy roll her eyes. “I haven’t had a date in months. Trust me, my love life can suffer all on its own. You’re not causing any damage.”

“I have enemies that might try to hurt you. You wouldn’t be able to travel.”

“Like I said, I’ve had enough traveling. I’m ready to sleep in the same bed for a year or two.”

_Sleep in the same bed._ Her words echoed in his head, wrapping around those pulsing thoughts in the back of his mind, intertwining with those ideas about sharing a bed with her and touching her and telling some nameless, faceless government employee that she was his wife and they were happy and they were trying to have kids. Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat. All those thoughts gave him was anxiety. He didn’t know how to do this. He could barely talk to her.

“I’m afraid I can’t pull this off.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and sank her teeth into her lower lip. “Okay, yeah.” Darcy nodded and continued with, “Maybe someone else would be better than me.”

“No,” he told her, voice firm. “It’s not you. It’s… you’re not the problem. I am.”

There was that little smile again that showed sadness instead of joy. “I get it.”

“You don’t,” he insisted. “I’m terrified of fucking this up.”

“Fucking what up?” she asked, sitting forward in her chair, her fingers wrapping around the seat on either side of her thighs. God, now he could see down her shirt a little bit. She’s not your wife _like that_, he reminded himself. She’ll never be your wife in a way that means you can look there.

“Everything. Living with you and being around other people instead of secluded. Trying to help Steve and the others. Being a person again.”

“You’re a person now.”

“Not really. Steve is asking me to come back and _live_, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I can help,” she said, voice soft and kind and everything he wanted, but couldn’t bear to accept.

Bucky shook his head. “I’m not your problem.”

“You’re not a problem.” Her response was lightning fast and firm. When he shook his head again, she rolled her eyes. “Really. You’re not a problem. You’re a person and no one is forcing me to do shit. I promise, dude.” Bucky didn’t answer, so she continued with, “If you don’t want to do this because I’m not the right fit, then I understand. I get it. But don’t say no because you think you’re protecting me or whatever. I don’t need protecting.”

“You do. You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, eyes on the floor between his boots.

She sighed. “Look, you’re acting like you’re some kind of monster. A monster wouldn’t warn me away, but a good guy would. So… like I said, if you’re saying no because I’m not the right chick for you then I’m cool with it. I get it. Just don’t make up some woe-is-me lie to spare my feelings. I can take it.”

“I don’t know if I can cope with coming back,” he admitted, laying out his fear for her to see.

“Coming back to the States?”

“Coming back to live. Coming back to fight beside Steve.”

“They told me the contract you have to sign says you can’t be forced to—”

Bucky looked up at her. “I couldn’t live with myself if I came back and didn’t help.”

Darcy smiled at him and scrunched up her nose. “Cross that bridge when you come to it. You know, you aren’t helping Steve there either. Here you could at least be a bigger part of his life.”

He looked away from her expectant expression and shook his head. “I’ve… gotta go. I can’t… I don’t… You’re perfect, but I don’t think I can do this.”

“Bucky,” she said when he stood up.

He stopped and looked down at her. “Thanks for talking with me,” Bucky said.

Whatever she’d been about to say seemed to crumble in her mouth. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you. I hope… I hope you figure things out.”

“Nice to meet you, Darcy,” he said before he stepped out of the circle and walked over to the control panel on the table. His right hand was trembling. This was too much. These decisions were overwhelming. Why did she have to be so… perfect? Doing this was out of the question now. He couldn’t live with that woman for a year and not lose his mind. He watched Darcy tilt her head back and look at the ceiling.

His finger hovered over the button to disconnect. A disembodied voice on Darcy’s end stopped him from pressing it.

“How did it go?”

Darcy looked toward Bucky, but she couldn’t see him. Her eyes were focused on someone who was in the same room as her, probably the woman who’d asked her the question. “I don’t know. Good? Bad? I don’t think he wants to do this,” she answered. “Guess you’re stuck with me, bitch.”

The other woman laughed. “I’m okay with that. I didn’t want to find another assistant anyway.” There was a pause and then the woman said, “You don’t seem happy about it.”

Darcy shrugged.

“Are you upset about losing the money?”

“No,” Darcy said. “Not really. It would have been nice, but… whatever, you know. I just… he seemed genuinely nice, and I think he’s going through a lot of shit and… I just wanted to help him, but I guess you can’t help someone who doesn’t want your help.”

“I want your help,” the other woman said.

“Thanks, Jane.”

Darcy stood and Bucky closed his eyes and pressed the button to disconnect. For a moment, it felt like if she took a step forward then she’d be in the room with him, right there in front of him. The idea made it difficult to breathe. Bracing his forearm on the wall, he practiced those breathing exercises he’d seen on YouTube. Inhale to the count of four, hold to the count of seven, exhale to the count of eight. After three repetitions, he opened his eyes to the empty space across from his chair and felt that pang of loneliness that crept up on him now and again.

* * *

**[June 22, 2018, 7:12pm]**

A week later, Bucky found himself sitting across from Steve at the small table in his hut. Steve hadn’t mentioned Darcy, though Bucky knew his friend was likely aware the two of them had spoken. He’d spent the past few days thinking of her, convincing himself that this ruse to get him back in the good graces of the United States government was madness. He kept coming back to the way she’d offered to help when he’d admitted that he wasn’t living. She hadn’t hesitated for a moment,

Steve finished his coffee and set the mug down, turning it in circles on the table. “Say what you came to say, punk,” Bucky told his friend.

Lifting his hand up, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, “We need an answer, Buck. I’ve been putting them off because I wanted to give you time, but we can’t avoid it any longer. Are you gonna be part of the deal?” When he looked up at Bucky, Steve’s eyes were hopeful and pleading.

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know. I…”

“T’Challa said you spoke with her. With Darcy.”

“I did. Did she tell you that, too?”

Steve shook his head. “No. Haven’t spoken to her since she told us she’d help. Told her I’d talk to you and you’d probably need some time to make a decision.” He paused for a moment before saying, “I would have given you her number if you’d told me you wanted to—”

“I didn’t want to. Shuri shamed me into it.”

“And how did it go?”

“Fine,” Bucky said.

“Fine?” Steve shifted in his chair and extended one of his long legs out as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine?” he repeated.

Bucky could sense his volatility. Everyone thought Steve was just the picture of calm and reasonable, but that punk was always acting before his brain had a chance to catch up with him. “Yeah, fine. She’s… a good girl.”

“Buck,” Steve said, raising one of his brows. “Are you serious? She’s your type.”

The flippant way Steve said it made anger flare in Bucky’s chest. “Did you think that would make it easier, punk? Huh? Did you think I’d take a look at her and sign some marriage certificate because I think she’s pretty?” He pushed himself back from the table and stood, looking down at his friend. “That makes it _worse_. I talked to her over a week ago and she’s still got my head fucked up.”

“How does that make it worse?”

“Because it’s not _real_. You’re paying her over a hundred grand and giving her a place to stay for a year. Maybe she wants to help and maybe I’d be lucky to get that help, but the fact is you’re paying her to give up a year of her life for me. Did you ever think about how it would make me feel to look at her and know she’s only there because she’s getting a paycheck?”

Steve jerked his head back in surprise. “You saying you actually want to see her, date her?”

“No, I’m—” Bucky cut himself off and ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I’m asking what happens if I do? You make me live with this dame for a year and you know she’s pretty and kind. You’ve met her. You probably know how she is better than I do. And you know I’ve been avoiding that because I don’t need the complication. It would have been better to give me some cold-hearted woman with fucking dollars in her eyes. But you give me _her_.”

“Buck, I didn’t… I thought she’d be good for you. It’s not like we have a long list of people who could do this. And the list of people we can trust right now is even shorter.”

Bucky braced a hand against a support beam overhead. “I know, Steve. I know. This is just a bad idea.”

“I know you don’t want to come back,” Steve told him, dropping his arms to his sides and looking so hurt it made Bucky want to cry.

“Fuck, Steve. This ain’t about you and me. You got this whole life separate from me. You got Sam and Natasha to watch your back. All those others, too. Wanda and Clint and… all of ‘em. Even Stark. He respects you and trusts you. The two of you are leaders. I saw all those articles about what you and he and the rest of them have done. You can’t throw that all away for me. I don’t fit into the plan.”

Steve’s hand came down on the table, rattling the mugs. “You _do_ fit into the plan. Tony Stark is the one who offered to pay off her fuckin’ school loans, Buck.”

“_What?_” Bucky asked.

“He’s gonna kill me for telling you, but he’s the one who offered to pay off her loans.”

“What? He’s paying her to torture me for a year?” Bucky asked.

Steve tilted his head back in what appeared to be frustration. “I don’t know, Buck. He’s never even talked to her. Tony told Nat and Nat told her and I didn’t even find out about it until a week ago. I assumed the two of you made up and he’s not gunning for your head anymore.”

“He knows where I am if he wants it,” Bucky replied.

“You told him where you are?”

“Yeah. He ain’t showed up yet, so I guess he’s waiting until I stick my head out or he’s shelved the vendetta.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s big, Bucky. That’s… that’s good.”

“Aren’t you two talking? He didn’t tell you all this?”

“We’re talking, but not about you.”

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes. The conversation was giving him a headache. “You two good?”

“I hope so,” Steve said. “I think so.” He chuckled and added, “How the hell did you think I was going to pay her over a hundred thousand?”

Bucky opened his eyes and shrugged.

“I got my back pay, but after everything with the Accords, they locked my bank accounts.”

“You want me to cry you a river, Stevie?” Bucky asked.

“No, I want you to stop hiding here in Wakanda and take a fuckin’ chance on having a life. You think I went to all this trouble to save your ass to have you moping around here looking like—”

“Fuck you,” Bucky said with a roll of his eyes, letting go of the beam and turning his back on Steve.

Steve drummed his fingertips on the table before saying, “What’s stopping you? Having to pretend to be married? Having to pretend with her? Or everything else?”

After a long moment, Bucky turned around. “Combination,” he replied.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?”

He shook his head at his friend and sat down in the chair.

They both heard footsteps approaching the dwelling. Bucky didn’t bother with a verbal reply as they waited for whoever was on their way. It turned out to be Natasha. She pushed aside the thick covering hanging over the doorway and walked inside. “Hey,” she told them both.

Bucky nodded at her. “Hey,” he replied.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked.

She tapped an envelope against her open palm. “Just delivering a letter to Bucky,” she told Steve.

“Letter from who?” Bucky asked, eyes shifting between the two of them.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, looking at Natasha. “A letter from who?”

“I think it’s whom, not who. And I don’t think that it’s any of your business, Steve.” Nat walked over to where Bucky was seated and dropped the envelope face down on the tabletop. “You’re welcome,” she told him.

“Thanks,” he replied, reaching up and sliding it off the table. He turned it around and saw the gentle, generous curves of feminine handwriting. His name was in big, looping letters and written with a thick, blue pen.

“What’s that?” Steve asked, leaning forward.

Natasha grabbed his jacket at the shoulder and tugged until Steve stood. “None of your business, Steve. Let him read his letter in peace.”

Steve looked back and forth between Nat and Bucky before finally deciding to follow her out of the hut. Bucky didn’t have to ask her who the letter was from. He _knew_. Deep down in his gut, he knew it was from Darcy Lewis. He’d never seen her handwriting, but he still recognized it.

Unable to wait any longer, he ripped open the envelope and took out the card. It was on thick paper that felt expensive. The front had embossed gold, words written in calligraphy that said, “You’re the Shit.” He smiled and flipped the card up so he could read what was inside. Instead of a short note with her name below, he found a treasure trove of cramped text. Before he even started reading, he flipped it closed and found that she’d continued her message halfway down the back of the card as well. Of course. He didn’t know her at all, but this seemed very… her.

Bucky opened the card again and began reading.

> _ **Bucky—** _
> 
> _ **I asked Natasha if she’d deliver this to you the next time she saw you, so I don’t know when you’re getting this letter. Why am I writing you a letter? Because I’m equal parts bored and crazy. And maybe a little because you’re probably a good guy who might feel bad about telling me that the strange little arrangement we were going to have wasn’t going to work out for you. So, if you are feeling the least bit bad about taking away my gravy train to a debt-free existence, please don’t. And if you weren’t feeling bad about that, but now you do, then don’t feel bad about not feeling bad. And don’t feel bad about saying it’s a no go. Confused much? Me, too.** _
> 
> _ **Despite the quick failure of our fake relationship, I wish you nothing but the best. I hope you do manage to find someone who can play that part for you and the year of transition goes quickly. I hope you find a way to be happy and still help your friends so you don’t feel guilty, too. Like I said, you’re a good guy (despite what you’ve told me) and good guys feel guilty when they aren’t helping. Don’t help too much, though. Use that free time to figure out how to live life. I know you said you don’t know how, but I bet you’ll figure it out faster than you think.** _
> 
> _ **One of my favorite authors is Neil Gaiman. He said: “I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes. Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.”** _
> 
> _ **So, here’s to your future mistakes, dude. May they be amazing and wonderful and accidentally-on-purpose make you HAPPY.** _
> 
> _**xoxo  
Darcy (Your Almost-Wife)** _

Her name was written in bigger letters, looping and bold, with a thick line beneath it that cut across the back of the card. The almost-title in parenthesis was small, an afterthought. Bucky swallowed the emotion that was blocking his throat and opened the card to re-read her message to him. Her perfect, beautiful, sweet, heart-wrenching message.

He read it five times from beginning to end before laying the card on the table and looking at the gold calligraphy telling him that he was the shit. Bucky rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore the way her words make his stomach churn and his mind hum with thoughts of being a coward. He was hiding. Doing Nothing, not Doing Something. Marrying her would be a mistake. In fact, he couldn’t think of a bigger mistake. Not because he didn’t like her, but because he liked her too much. His question to Steve cycled back through his jumbled thoughts. What happens when I like her so much I don’t want her to leave in a year? Maybe he was worrying for nothing. Maybe that wouldn’t happen.

What would it be like to pretend with her? Maybe she could take over Shuri’s duties of showing him pop culture from the past few decades. Maybe he could practice his rusty communications skills with her. Maybe. She’d take the bed and he’d sleep on the couch, of course. He remembered the way her hand absently rubbed her thigh, traveling from her knee all the way up to the curve of her hip and back down again. What if he had to touch her when his watchdog came to make sure he wasn’t faking a relationship? What if he had to hold her hand or put an arm around her waist or kiss— Bucky broke off the thought before he could even consider putting his lips on hers. What would the stud in her nose feel like pressed against his nose when their lips touched?

He exhaled a sharp breath and shook his head. No. There would be no kissing. The world could assume all their kissing was done in private. He didn’t need to assault the poor girl because he’d been avoiding women since things went south in Bucharest. A year and they could go their separate ways. Her with her money and him with… what? What would he have? His freedom, he supposed. As much of it as he could get, considering what he was and what he’d done.

With his index finger, Bucky traced the letters on the front of the card. What kind of woman sent someone a card with the phrase, “you’re the shit” embossed in gold on the front? Your type, he thought, remembering Steve saying so with a grin. Would it be difficult to live with her after the solitude of the past two years? Would it be difficult to leave her after their year was done?

She was right. They were all right; he just hadn’t wanted to listen. He needed to do something. Even if it was a mistake, he needed to take a chance or this strange purgatory would never end.

Bucky opened the card and read it again. His mind made up, he carefully slid it back into the envelope and walked out into the cool evening air. Steve and Natasha were standing a few yards away, their heads together as they talked about arrangements to meet with General Ross.

When Steve saw Bucky, he stopped the conversation. “Was it from Darcy?” he asked.

Instead of answering the question, Bucky said, “Okay. Let’s do it. What’s next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just might get these two into a room together in the next chapter. Shuri decides she needs to help Bucky dress to impress. And Okoye can't help but roll her eyes at all this nonsense.


	4. Chapter 4

> _”She’s probably somebody’s onl_ _y light, gonna shine tonight. Yeah, she’s probably somebody’s baby, all right. I gotta shut my eyes but I can’t get her out of my sight.” - Yo La Tengo (Somebody’s Baby)_

**[July 8, 2018, 3:58pm]**

“Are you going to wear that?”

Bucky looked down at his clothes and then up at Shuri. She was standing in the doorway of a lavish guestroom in T’Challa’s home, and she was looking at him like he still reeked of pig shit. “What?” he asked, holding his arms out.

“Don’t you want to impress her?” Shuri asked, walking over to take a seat on an ornate chair with a high back.

He was in a pair of loose brown pants that were the least tattered and stained from his hard labor, but he’d pulled out the white tank he’d worn when T’Challa’s doctor had put in him cryostasis. It had been shoved in a trunk under his bed since Shuri had brought him back into the world of the living. “My wardrobe is limited, _Princess_.”

“Obviously,” she told him, curling her nose up.

In truth, he was grateful for her prodding and picking. Before she’d walked into the room, he’d been consumed with anxiety over meeting the woman he was going to spend the next year with. Steve had gone to retrieve her and they were due to return that evening. They were hours from returning to the U.S.

“You’re close to my brother’s size. Stay here and I’ll be back with something better and a tailor,” Shuri said before she swept out of the room, the long purple skirt she wore making a rustling noise as she moved quickly.

“Shuri, don’t—” She was already gone before he could finish. “Don’t do that,” he told the empty room. Bucky sat down on the bed and put his head between his legs as he tried to settle his churning stomach. They were to have dinner together with Steve, Natasha, Sam, T’Challa, and Shuri. Wanda and Vision were spending time with each other but planned to meet the rest of them in D.C. where they would all sign the documents binding them to work within the constraints of the American government. Bucky wasn’t keen on signing anything, but he knew that if he didn’t that there would be no moving forward. Running had been tiring and would probably be impossible now that the world felt so much smaller with cameras and facial recognition everywhere.

He stood up and walked across the bedroom to a floor-length mirror hanging on the wall. He stopped a couple of feet away and tried to see what she would see when they met for the first time in person. His hair was longer than it had ever been. The top layer of it was pulled back in a loose bun, but the bottom layer hung free, falling just below his shoulders. He’d considered cutting it before this journey but decided that the less he looked like the old Bucky Barnes, the better.

The vibranium arm was sleek and flawless, a dusky charcoal color with soft gold lines where the plates joined. It worked and looked better than the garish silver weapon HYDRA has affixed to him so many decades ago. Did it look less scary, less intimidating? Perhaps. His eyes looked tired with dark, bruise-like circles just beneath. His sleep had been terrible since he’d made this decision. All those nightmares he’d thought were finished with him had returned. Most nights were restless and filled with vague dreams of blood and violence and loss. He only remembered the _feeling_ when he woke. And the feeling made him sick to his stomach.

He’d second-guessed this decision so many times in the past two weeks. He was sure he was making a big mistake. “She said to make mistakes,” he whispered to his reflection in the mirror. Why was this woman that he’d only had one conversation with so important to him? Something was wrong in his head.

He heard Shuri’s shoes with thick, pristine white soles hitting the tile in the hallway before she walked through the door with an elderly woman in tow. “He’s about the same size, right?”

The older woman just shook her head and sighed, saying something in the native tongue. Bucky had picked up a few words, but he did not recognize what the woman had muttered.

“He’s meeting his wife today,” Shuri told the woman.

“I—I’m not,” Bucky said. “It’s…”

Shuri shot him a warning look. “Well, they aren’t married yet, but they will be soon.”

“He’s a bit shorter,” the old woman said, scrunching her nose up.

“Exactly why you are here,” Shuri said, lifting up a hanger that held a pair of black pants made of fabric so expensive they looked like a dull satin material. The hanger behind the pants held a black dashiki with embroidery in a gold thread around the collar and the lapel.

“I can’t wear that,” Bucky said.

“You’re going to look great,” Shuri told him, ignoring his protest.

“Shuri, that’s—”

She cut him off with a sharp look and a lift of her eyebrows. “You are going to look great,” she repeated slower this time, daring him to argue with her.

The older woman pulled a tape measure out of her bag and descended upon him. “He needs shoes,” she told Shuri.

Everyone looked down at Bucky’s worn sandals. “Oh. Eww. Right,” Shuri agreed. “You get to work and I’ll go find shoes.”

The older woman shifted her gaze to the side and lifted her brows. The expression clearly said she thought this whole situation was ridiculous, but it wasn’t her place to judge. Bucky agreed with her, but he wasn’t about to argue with Shuri. All his energy was focused on the future instead of the present. It felt strange since he’d spent the past couple years keeping his head down and only the current day on his mind. Looking forward made him feel like he might be sick in one of the guest bathrooms before the day was done. He’d never hear the end of it from Shuri if this meeting ended in that kind of shame.

* * *

**[July 8, 2018, 6:38pm]**

Bucky tugged at the high neckline and rolled his shoulders before clasping his hands together in front of him. Okoye glanced over from her spot by the door, spear in hand, and gave him a quizzical look before going back to staring out the window. They were alone in the dining hall with the exception of two other guards under Okoye’s command who were on either side at the head of the table. Spotless glasses and silverware were laid out on the beautiful wooden surface.

“Do I look ridiculous?” he asked Okoye.

She shifted her eyes over to where he stood but didn’t move her head. “Do you actually want me to answer that?”

Bucky inhaled a deep breath. “Okay. Question answered.”

“Shuri?” she asked.

“Yep,” Bucky replied with a tight smile.

Okoye shrugged. “She meant well.”

“Right. Right.” Bucky tipped his weight forward to his toes and then rocked back on his heels. He repeated this several times before tugging on the long dashiki. It hit him at mid-thigh and felt a bit confining. He’d been wearing loose clothing suitable for farming for months, so the cut and fit and material of this more formal wear was stifling. In addition, it was traditional African clothing and he was decidedly _not_ African.

“Stop moving around so much,” Okoye told him. “Your wife will think your bladder is small.”

“Oh, god,” Bucky muttered, lifting a hand to card his fingers through his hair only to realize half of it was pulled back in a knot at just below the crown of his head. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“You can and will.” He hadn’t directed his comment at Okoye, but she’d answered him without even sparing a glance in his direction.

“They’re here!” Shuri said, sweeping into the room. She had on an orange leather top with a long purple skirt. She often wore bright colors and complained loudly and to whoever would listen when she was expected to wear ceremonial garb.

Bucky had overheard a little tiff with her mother in the hallway earlier in which Shuri declined some sort of headdress in favor of her hair in two buns like Princess Leia from Star Wars. Bucky knew all about Star Wars since Shuri had made him watch those movies after dinner no less than three times over the past year. He didn’t mind so much. It was nice to check out and focus on a dramatic story that had nothing to do with his life for a couple of hours.

Shuri’s proclamation as she walked over made Bucky want to run. “Did you see them?” he asked.

“Yes. My brother is giving them a tour.” Shuri rolled her eyes. “He shooed me off. Can you believe that?” The question was directed at Okoye who just shrugged. Of course Okoye believed that, Bucky thought. T’Challa couldn’t get a word in edgewise when Shuri was excited about something and, for some reason, she seemed excited about the prospect of marrying Bucky off to a woman neither of them had met. “He better not show them my lab,” Shuri said as an afterthought.

“He knows you’d kill him if he did,” Okoye assured the girl.

“Why?” Bucky asked. “I’ve been in your lab. Is it off-limits?”

“I want to give them a tour of the lab,” Shuri said. “It’s _my_ lab.”

He should have known. Shuri loved showing off her tech and her brain. Bucky just smiled and shook his head. She was a good kid. He was going to miss her. Instead of keeping that thought to himself, he opened his mouth and said what was on his mind since he was leaving Wakanda in the morning as long as Darcy didn’t back out. “I’m going to miss you,” he said.

Shuri gave him a smile that would have been sweet if it weren’t for that mischievous look in her eyes. “You won’t for long. I’ve already convinced Darcy to let me come visit.”

“Do you think your brother will allow that?” Okoye asked.

“Who says my brother is going to know?”

Okoye widened her eyes. “Me.”

Shuri snorted and waved her hand through the air as a dismissal.

“I’ll call if she ends up on my doorstep,” Bucky told Okoye.

The woman inclined her head in silent gratitude. “And I’ll come kill her for disobeying her king.”

“Don’t be so paranoid. I can take care of myself. We’re opening up Wakanda to the rest of the world, aren’t we?”

“We’re sharing some of our technology and our knowledge, Princess. We aren’t shipping the king’s sister off to... whatever that thing is you say you want to attend. Co—Corchaka—Comella?”

“Coachella in California.” Shuri walked over to peek through the doorway and down the hall. “Do you think you’ll live in California?” she asked Bucky over her shoulder.

The question made his smile falter. Listening to the two of them bicker had taken him out of his own head for a minute, but Shuri’s question was jarring. It reminded him that he was going to be living in the States, that he was going to be sharing a home with a woman he didn’t even really know all that well. “No idea,” he told Shuri. He needed to practice his breathing exercises again.

In to the count of four, hold to the count of seven, out to the count of eight. Repeat. Okoye was watching him with passing interest while Shuri paced the room talking about Beyonce’s Coachella performance earlier that year. She was excited and animated and it all reminded Bucky that she was still so very young.

Shuri stuck her head out into the hall again. When she turned to look at him, he already knew what she was going to say. He could hear the footsteps of several people coming down the long hallway. “They’re here,” she said.

“He knows,” Okoye said. “He looks like he might pass out.”

“Don’t worry so much!” Shuri told him. “You’ve already met her. She’s great.”

“This is different. We’re going to be in the same room. I’m planning on getting in that jet and flying back to the States tomorrow to live with her for a year.” He bent over and propped himself up with a hand on his knee. In to the count of four, hold for seven, out to the—

“You’ll be fine,” Shuri said, patting his back and throwing off his breathing. “She likes you.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“She told me.”

“She doesn’t even know me.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “After you two spoke.”

“Wait. Have you been talking to her for the past two weeks?”

“Just a few times,” Shuri told him.

They were close—just a few yards from the dining hall. “A few times?” Bucky whispered, standing up straight and smoothing out the expensive fabric of the formal clothes she’d strong-armed him into wearing.

“Three, no five times. I needed to tell her what movies you’ve seen so she can help you with the rest.”

Okoye snorted.

“What?” Shuri said, spinning around to look at Okoye.

“He’s not a child, Princess. You aren’t handing him off to a babysitter.”

“I know that,” Shuri said.

Sometimes Bucky felt like Okoye might be wrong. Sometimes this felt like he was being placed with a caregiver who was tasked with acclimating him to modern American society. Right now, though, he felt like he was about to go on a blind date and it was going to last an entire fucking year.

“I hope you are all hungry. We have a wonderful meal planned.” T’Challa walked into the room first, extending his arm to invite those who followed him into the dining hall. The room was big enough to seat thirty, but the table was set for ten at the far end. The floor to ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city and the lush tops of trees beyond it.

Shuri pinched his right arm through the fabric of the dashiki and whispered, “Breathe!”

He dragged in a shuddering breath of air as a brunette with a slight build walked into the room, eyes wide as she took in the decor. “This is gorgeous,” she said, looking at the architectural features of the ceiling. Bucky assumed she was Jane. By the time he moved his gaze back to the doorway, Shuri was blocking his view as she moved forward to greet their guests.

“Darcy!” he heard Shuri exclaim, embracing the person who had entered after Jane. Steve was right behind, followed by Nat and Sam. Steve was watching Darcy while Nat and Sam gave Bucky a nod of acknowledgment.

Bucky wanted to leave. There was a door behind him. It led to a passage behind the wall and down to the kitchen. He knew because Shuri had told him all about the secret passages in the family home. He could still leave before Shuri stepped aside and Darcy saw him. He could…

Darcy’s eyes met his when Shuri turned to greet Jane. It was like she’d known exactly where to look to find him. Like their gazes were magnets. She was even prettier in person, he decided right away. Short and curvy with glossy, long hair that was curled at the ends and dark pink lips. The tiny silver stud affixed to her right nostril gleamed in the light from the sconces on the wall.

She was in a dress the color of red wine. The fabric was tight around her chest and dipped down low enough for him to see the swell of her breasts pressing against it. The skirt flared out at her hips and fell to her knees. The waist was cinched with a cream-colored belt that accentuated the hourglass shape of her figure. She must have removed the cardigan that matched her belt during the tour because it was clutched in her hands. The way she was holding it and the look in her eyes made him realize he wasn’t the only nervous one in the room. She looked like she might cut and run, too.

You can leave, he thought. You don’t have to do this. He wanted to tell her, but his feet wouldn’t seem to work. Neither would hers, apparently. The thin, little shoes she wore were barely even slippers, but they matched the belt and cardigan. Did she dress like this for him? Had she worried over what she’d look like?

Steve put a hand on the small of her back and gestured to Bucky. He swallowed and forced himself to take a step forward. She did the same, giving him a nervous smile. He returned it, afraid his looked more like a grimace. It must have been passable because the nervous look in her eyes softened a bit and her smile widened to show teeth.

Steve said something to her, but Bucky didn’t catch it, not even with his enhanced hearing. His ears were roaring with the rush of blood and his heavy breathing. Jane touched Darcy’s arm, encouraging her to look at something in the window to their right. Darcy broke eye contact to look and Bucky’s gaze met Steve’s. His friend raised his brows and gave an encouraging smile.

“If you’re going to be sick, do it in the trash can behind you.”

Bucky looked over at Okoye who had moved to stand beside him. “Do I look that bad?”

She raised her brows and asked him the same question as earlier. “Do you actually want me to answer that?”

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered, his eyes taking in Darcy’s bare calves. Natasha made her way over and blocked his view.

“She’s nervous. Be nice,” Nat told him.

“_I’m_ nervous,” he replied.

“She thinks you won’t like her enough.” Nat glanced over her shoulder to make sure Darcy was still occupied

“I like her just fine. I like her… I—I like her more than…” He gave up and sighed. “I don’t even fuckin’ know her.”

Natasha and Okoye exchanged a look he couldn’t decipher as Nat stepped aside. Sam had moved over to the window with Jane so Steve could direct Darcy toward Bucky.

Suddenly the woman he’d spoken with over thousands of miles was right in front of him smelling like citrus and sandalwood and looking up at him with big, blue eyes. He had a good half a foot on her, if not more.

“Hey,” she said, just as breathy as the first time she’d said it to him two weeks ago.

“Hey,” he replied, feeling like a fool. Why hadn’t he thought about what he was going to say when he saw her?

Steve coughed as Nat grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him aside. Bucky looked to his right to find Okoye was gone. No audience to judge his pathetic way with words. Good.

“What changed your mind?” she asked.

“Your letter,” he replied without a single thought of evasion or deception.

Her laugh was soft, almost like a caress. “I didn’t think it would change anything. I just wrote it because I felt like there wasn’t really an end to our conversation and I wanted to wish you good luck.”

“It’s been a difficult decision to make. Not because of you, but because… I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She nodded. “Well, I guess you’re setting off to make some mistakes. I hope you’re ready.”

Bucky smiled down at her when she made the reference to the quote in the letter. “I’m definitely not ready, but I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice,” she told him. “Except for the gotta be fake-married thing. Some bureaucratic loser with a shitty marriage probably decided that if he has to suffer then other people do, too.”

He chuckled. “Am I going to suffer?”

“Only if you leave the toilet seat up. Otherwise, I’m a dream to live with. Best roommate ever. Ask Jane.” She glanced over her shoulder at her friend, turned back toward him, and said, “Actually, don’t ask Jane. She’ll tell you I’m a slob who doesn’t use a clothes basket for my dirty laundry and who eats in the bed. These things are only true on occasion.”

“What occasion?”

“Days that end in Y.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that I’m doing the laundry,” he said, trying his best to keep a straight face.

“Exactly. Damn, you catch on fast.”

Shuri appeared and linked her arm with Darcy’s. “Did my brother show you my lab?”

“He said you’d kill him if he did. Jane is pumped to see it. She’s got one of those science boners.” Her brows drew together and she said, “Wait, how old are you? Are you old enough to know about boners?” Darcy covered her eyes with her hand. “Oh, god, I just… to a…”

“I’m eighteen. I know what a boner is,” Shuri said.

A moment before, Bucky had been marveling at how quickly Darcy had put him at ease. Now, he was hoping the floor might open up and swallow him. “Okay, I’ll just… I’ll stand over here…” He stepped back away from them and Shuri busted out laughing. A moment later, she and Darcy were both giggling and holding onto each other. The more one laughed, the harder the other laughed. He just stood there and watched them gasp for air.

“What did you say to them?” T’Challa asked when he walked over to stand beside Bucky.

“I don’t think it was what I said,” Bucky told him. “They started talking about… well…”

“Science boner!” Shuri yelled out between bouts of breathless laughter.

“Shuri!” Everyone turned to see Queen Mother Ramonda standing in the doorway, her mouth pinched as she looked at her giggling daughter. To her credit, Shuri sobered up quickly and wiped the tears of laughter off her face.

“Sorry, mother.”

“We have company,” Ramonda said.

Darcy winced. “In Shuri’s defense, ma’am, the company is the one who started it.”

This made Shuri snort. T’Challa grabbed his sister’s arm and pulled her toward the table. “Come, we’re going to eat like _civilized people_, sister.”

“Sorry,” Darcy mouthed to Bucky. He just smiled back and shook his head before gesturing toward the table.

“Can I sit beside you?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Bucky responded. Did she even need to ask? She could do whatever she wanted. The prospect of returning to a life in the United States was overwhelming on the best of days, but she put him at ease with one of those tentative smiles of hers. Maybe he could actually do this after all.

* * *

**[July 8, 2018, 7:54pm]**

Shuri was sitting across from them, and she looked entirely too pleased with herself. Darcy had just finished her dessert—a small glass dish of what tasted like sweet porridge. Bucky wasn’t much of a sweets person, but he’d kill for a Hersey’s Chocolate Bar. He hadn’t had one of those in years. Instead, he contented himself with a cup of black coffee as he did after every dinner. Darcy glanced at his untouched dessert before asking Shuri what was in the confection.

Bucky carefully reached over and slid her empty bowl over to his spot and replaced it with his full bowl. Shuri saw what he’d done, but Darcy didn’t. When she saw Shuri staring at her bowl, she looked down. It only took her a moment to glance over and see that he’d switched with her. “For me?” she asked.

“For you,” Bucky confirmed.

“You two are so cute together,” Shuri said.

The comment made Bucky feel about as flustered as Darcy looked while she shoved a spoonful of the dessert in her mouth so she didn’t have to respond. When no one said anything, Darcy swallowed and said, “This is so good. What is it?”

Shuri took mercy on them and launched into some story about the dessert and how it had changed over the years. Thank god, Bucky thought. When he just focused on Darcy and didn’t think about what they were going to try to pull off, he was okay. The prospect of faking a marriage for a year was daunting. In fact, it was more like absolutely insane. Maybe if he were more capable of coping with change and the life he was about to enter, then it wouldn’t be so scary.

T’Challa walked up to stand behind his sister, placing his hand on her shoulder. She looked back and gave him one of those annoyed expressions that teenagers from all countries and all generations seemed pre-programmed with. “We should let Bucky and Darcy have some time to talk,” T’Challa said, catching Bucky’s eyes and nodding his head. “There is coffee and tea on the terrace.”

Bucky wanted to be alone with her, but he was also terrified of it. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he froze up or didn’t know how to talk with her. She didn’t seem to mind that he was quiet. In fact, she filled the silence easily herself. Surprisingly, it wasn’t annoying in the least. In fact, he loved hearing her voice and the way she said certain words. He could sit there and listen to her talk all evening as long as he wasn’t expected to respond. The problem right now was that if they were alone, then he’d have to respond. What would he say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's such a treat for me to be able to live this fic again with all of you via comments as I post each chapter. Thank you for reading and letting me know what you think! Tomorrow we'll check in with Darcy. These two might even end up in the same bedroom... :-)


	5. Chapter 5

> _”Here in center frame, here there’s only air and just enough space to fill. I promised I’d see it again. I promised I’d see this with you now.” - Jimmy Eat World (Just Watch the Fireworks)_

**[July 8, 2018, 8:22pm]**

Darcy closed her eyes as she sipped the coffee left for them on the terrace. It was strong—a dark roast—but the vague sweetness without any added sugar made it delicious, almost fruity. It was, hands down, one of the best coffees she’d ever had, and she started every day with more coffee than she probably should.

Bucky was sitting across a small table, but their chairs were facing out towards the horizon. She could see a sprawling city below them, trees beyond, and then a dark sky filled with stars. Jane was probably camped out in Shuri’s lab. Knowing what little she did of Shuri, the young woman was probably right there with Jane, showing off the technology that had only recently been made available to the world at large, and even then it was probably only a fraction of what Wakanda had to offer. The air was humid and her hair, which she’d fussed over before they’d left Norway and also on the jet to Wakanda probably looked like a frizzy nightmare.

Bucky looked perfect. Gorgeous. He also looked just as nervous as she felt, which put her a bit more at ease. Darcy had thought things couldn’t get weirder when Captain America showed up to interview her for a job without telling her what the job title was or even what it entailed. The interview was actually more of a conversation about her interests and a review of the past two years of her life—where she’d been, what she’d done, and whether she’d been arrested.

It got even weirder the next day when he met her in the lobby of a hotel and asked her if she’d be willing to give up a year of her life to play wife to a friend of his. She’d laughed and asked him if this was a classic asking-for-a-friend scenario. The question had gone over his head and the woman with him had laughed and explained what Darcy had meant—was Steve actually asking for himself. He blushed and emphatically shook his head. “No,” he’d told her, “it’s for my friend Bucky Barnes. If you’re interested and want to hear more, then we’ll talk. If it doesn’t sound like something you want to do, then… no harm, no foul.”

She’d told him she was interested and that led down one of the stranger rabbit holes of her life. Actually, it was a lot of waiting and wondering until she’d gotten a call from Princess Shuri in Wakanda who told her Bucky himself wanted to speak with her. Sam Wilson had already given her the rundown on Bucky’s life after the fall from the train back in forty-five. Darcy knew everything that came before because it was in the history books. She’d seen pictures of him and, honestly, the vibe he had right now was even hotter than the swoony vibe he’d had back when he was the panty-dropping Howlie. This was odd because the man sitting next to her seemed to be completely unaware of any sex appeal he might have, and he also seemed to want to sink into the ground half the time. How was she so much more attracted to him when he was an awkward, sad dude? Obviously, she had issues and one of them was the desire to save him. Which was, like, the story of her fucking life.

“You can’t save him,” Jane had told her on the flight to Wakanda.

Darcy knew Jane was right, but she at least wanted to _help_ him. If he’d let her. What would being married to him be like? Separate bedrooms and a little acting for the watchdog, probably. Maybe they could at least be friends if they had to be roommates. Pickings must have been slim if Steve decided she was the best candidate for the job and Bucky actually agreed to her assuming the role. Maybe all that drama club in high school was actually going to pay off. If she could remember any of it, that is.

“Thanks for letting me eat your dessert,” she said, breaking the silence that had been almost oppressive since they’d moved out to the narrow terrace off the dining room.

“Thank you for… agreeing to this mess,” he murmured back as he picked up the carafe and refilled his mug. Wordlessly, he offered to refill hers. Darcy held it closer and watched him carefully fill her mug before returning the carafe to the table.

“It’s no big thing,” she told him, dismissing his thanks because it made her uncomfortable. She was going to walk away debt-free and all she had to do was pretend like she was in love with a very hot guy who had manners and was, apparently, very nice and sweet. It was a pretty good deal, all things considered.

He took a drink and leaned his head back against the window behind them. “It is, actually. It _is_ a big deal.”

“Well, it would be if you were a jerk, but you’re not. Unless this is all an act.”

Without lifting his head off the window, he rolled it over so he could look at her. “I gotta be honest with you, Darcy, I’m probably not going to be the easiest person to live with. I haven’t… I haven’t actually lived with anyone since… since I…”

“Got your freedom back?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he agreed, rolling his head back so he was looking up at the sky. “And I wouldn’t say my time with HYDRA was spent living with anyone since I was in a cryo chamber.”

We’ll figure it out,” she told him. She didn’t know what else to say. What did he mean, he wasn’t easy to live with? Did he leave dirty dishes in the sink? Dirty clothes scattered across the bedroom? So did she. “Wait, are you trying to tell me that you snore?”

He chuckled. “Maybe? I honestly don’t know.”

“None of your dates have been allowed to stay long enough to find out?” She regretted saying it as soon as the question left her mouth, but taking it back wasn’t an option, and she actually did want to know what his life was life. Did he sleep around? Was he going to while they pretended to be married and in love? The prospect of him bringing a woman home while she was a room away made Darcy feel sick to her stomach. She had no right to feel that way, though.

“No dates. No women.”

“Men?” she asked.

He chuckled again. “No men.”

“Just me then,” she said, a little surprised that he didn’t seem to be interested in scratching that itch. Unless he’s lying to make you feel better, she told herself.

He closed his eyes. “Just you.”

The way he said those two words stirred up butterflies in her stomach. “Lucky me,” Darcy said, her voice only holding a hint of the teasing that she’d intended to imbue those words. Instead, it sounded like she was actually happy that he wasn’t going to be fucking around on their fake-ass marriage. God, she must sound so pathetic.

“I don’t know if I’d call you lucky. You gotta deal with me and all my… issues.”

“Oh? You didn’t get the memo about my issues? They are so much worse.”

“How do you figure?” he asked, eyes still closed.

“Well, mostly because I don’t have a good reason for them and you do. Mine are just general neurotic behavior. I think it all goes back to missing those two weeks of school in third grade because I had chickenpox. Missing the times tables fucked up my entire education, causing me to try too hard. Which resulted in me thinking that I needed a graduate degree. Which resulted in my internship with Jane and my life simultaneously getting more awesome and turning into a complete trainwreck at the same time.”

She could see the way he was smiling even though she could only see his profile. “You know, I had the same problem.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he told her. “Except without the grad school and internship.”

She chuckled and took a sip of her coffee. “Right, right. You had the military and the whole prisoner of war thing with a side of mind-fuck. That’s the worst, dude.”

Bucky rolled his head over to look at her again. His weariness was evident in his eyes and the dark circles beneath them. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, barely a whisper.

Darcy swallowed the lump in her throat at the way he was looking at her like nothing else existed and the way he’d called her sweetheart. “I’m sure. Are you sure?”

His smile was broken and sad, but it was still a smile. “No, I’m not sure. But you’re making it easier for me to say yes.”

“Am I?”

“Mmmm,” he agreed, sitting up and taking a drink of his coffee. “Why did you agree before you met me?”

She shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do. Plus, Steve said when we did meet that I could back out and no one would be mad about it.”

“You still can. Back out, I mean. You know that right?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I know that. But I’m not going to. Are you?”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately. After a long moment of silence, he said, “We’ll see tomorrow.” She watched him rest his forearms on his knees. The left arm was intimidating because it looked like a weapon that had been attached to his shoulder. He took a drink from his mug. “Would you be mad at me if I backed out?” he asked, eyes on the ground at his feet.

“No,” she said right away. “Why would I be mad?”

“No job, no loan payoff.”

She shook her head. “No, I wouldn’t be mad. That shouldn’t factor into your decision.” Darcy shifted in her seat and crossed one leg over the other. The movement made him glance over in her direction. “Are you still not feeling too excited over… everything else?”

His raised brows told her he wasn’t sure what she was referring to.

“Everything else,” she told him. “People, crowds, responsibilities, people knowing who you are. You know—responsibilities of modern American life or whatever.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, looking at the ground again. “Responsibilities.”

She set her mug down and leaned back in her chair, looking up at the clear sky filled with stars. “It won’t be so bad. I’ll do the dishes if you clean the bathroom once a week.”

Bucky chuckled. “Oh, yeah?”

“Okay, okay. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll make dinner _and_ do the dishes if you clean the bathroom.”

“Sounds like you don’t like cleaning the bathroom.”

“I don’t. I’ll let the mold have it and hope I don’t get a disease when I shower.”

He sat back in his chair and tilted his head towards the sky just like she’d done. “I’ll clean the bathroom and do the dishes if you cook.”

“Will you fold my laundry, too?”

“You’re pushing it, sweetheart,” he said. She could hear the way he was grinning in the tone of his voice.

“Okay, okay. You vacuum; I’ll fold the clothes. And I’m only conceding because I don’t want you to see my granny panties.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth to respond but nothing came out. Instead, he inhaled and then exhaled a breathy, soft laugh. “Well, now I might want to fold the laundry.”

Darcy sank her teeth into her lower lip. Was he teasing her? Was he _flirting_ just a little bit? She knew they needed to get to know one another better if they were going to convince some government-sanctioned therapist that they were in love. She’d been worried about that earlier when they’d gone out on the balcony to talk and ended up sitting in uncomfortable silence for a good ten minutes. Now that he was loosening up, she thought they might stand a chance. “Look,” she said, glancing over at his handsome profile. “I’m gonna be upfront with you, Barnes. I’ve got two pairs of full-on briefs with worn elastic that my mother would have been horrified to know I wear on occasion. You need to know this since you’re going to be my husband.” She paused when he looked over at her, their gazes locking. “God, that’s so fucking weird. Husband.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” he agreed. “I… didn’t think anyone would ever… It’s so weird to hear you say that.” He looked back up at the sky and Darcy could see his Adam’s apple move up and then down as he swallowed.

“It feels surreal and then it just gives me anxiety,” she admitted.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Darcy said, “Yeah, I know. I’m not saying anxiety like I’m scared. I’m saying anxiety like what if we can’t pull it off. What if we’re not convincing enough? That’s a big responsibility. I don’t want them to think we’re lying because then they might take you away and…”

“You’re worried about me?” he asked when she trailed off. “That’s what’s making you anxious?”

“Well, yeah. What else would it be?” Darcy’s eyes widened. “Wait, did you think I’m scared of you, of us doing this? Hell, no. You’ve been nothing but nice to me. You gave me your dessert.”

“Is that all it takes to get in your good graces?” His eyes were back on the sky now.

“Pretty much. I’m easy.”

They both sat up in their chairs when the door clicked open and Steve joined them on the terrace. “Hey,” he said, “you two getting along?”

“You’re giving me meddling dad vibes, Rogers,” Darcy told him.

Steve laughed, but more importantly, so did Bucky. “I just, uh, came to bring you these.” He walked over and held out two small jewelry boxes. One was grey and the other was black. Steve sat the black one in front of Darcy and the grey one in front of Bucky. “Your rings,” he said.

Bucky leaned away from the table where the box was sitting. It was clear each step they took toward this farce made him uncomfortable and this was the biggest step since meeting her. “Thanks,” Darcy said. She didn’t touch her box either. Not for lack of curiosity, though. She wanted Bucky to be comfortable and her slipping on a wedding band was going to make him retreat further. Besides, she couldn’t really wrap her head around it all yet, either. She was going to wear a wedding ring. She was going to actually be married to the guy sitting next to her. Life had taken her for some bizarre trips, but this one was the strangest yet.

“So, we don’t have much time before we need to be in D.C. to sign the paperwork. Once we’re there, you both need to… act like you’re… you know.”

“Married?” Darcy said, raising her brows.

“Right,” Steve agreed. “We, uh… Well, I… I mean, Nat thought maybe it would be a good idea if you shared Bucky’s room tonight since you’re both staying in T’Challa’s home. Kinda, uh, a trial run for—”

“I can stay in my hut,” Bucky said. His hand was gripping the arm of the chair.

“Buck, I think you and Darcy need to get your story straight or—”

“There’s one bed, Steve,” Bucky snapped.

Darcy cleared her throat before Steve could reply. “I got massive amounts of sleep last night. Maybe we could just stay up and, uh, get our story straight like Steve said. I can catch a couple of hours on the jet on our way back home.”

“It’s not fair to make you—” Bucky said.

She cut him off with, “You’re not making me do anything. Steve’s right. We need a story. When did we meet? Where? First date? Plans for the future? What’s your favorite food? What side of the bed do you sleep on? Shit couples know about each other, you know. I don’t want you to get into trouble because we were stupid and didn’t prepare.”

Steve took a step back and smiled. “Okay?” he asked, looking at Bucky like he was a bomb that might go off at any moment.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky agreed.

As Steve went back inside, Darcy refilled their mugs from the carafe of coffee. “Right or left?” she asked.

Bucky looked over at her. His eyes dropped to the box with his wedding ring in it and then flipped back up to her. “Right or left what?”

“Do you sleep on the right side or the left side?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

“Ahh, you’re a middle guy. Gotcha. Well, I prefer to sleep on the side that is furthest from the door.”

“Why?” His eyebrows were furrowed as he considered what she’d said.

“It just creeps me out to sleep near the door.”

“We’re not—we won’t be…” He looked so uncomfortable and nervous. “We can’t sleep in the same bed,” he finally said.

“I didn’t say we were,” Darcy told him, “but you never know what kind of wacky questions this person is going to ask us when they come for those weekly visits. We need to have our stories straight.”

He nodded and seemed to pull himself together and focus. “Okay. Furthest from the door. What else?”

“Boxers or briefs?”

“Boxers.”

He’d look good in anything, but imagining him in a pair of boxers that rode low on his hips made Darcy squeeze her thighs together. “What about boxer briefs? Ooh, our story could be that you like boxers, but I keep buying you boxer-briefs because I think you’d look hot in them.”

“What?” he asked, looking thoroughly confused.

“Boxer briefs. You know, the tight boxers that are form-fitting.”

“Why are you buying them for me?”

“I’m _not_, but we need to have these little stories to tell that sound real and will convince the government that this isn’t fake.”

“Well, it won’t be. Didn’t you tell Shuri that?” He reached for his full mug of coffee. “It will be real and legal.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

He nodded. “How long have we been… married?”

“Hmmm, nine months? We started dating… I don’t know. How long would we date?”

“A year ago,” he said, voice firm and confident.

Darcy chuckled. “A year? You move fast with that proposal and wedding in three months. Or, wait, maybe I asked you.”

“No, I asked you because it only took me a few weeks to know.”

The way he said it without hesitation made those butterflies in her stomach kick up into high gear again. “Right. Okay. You know what you want. How’d you propose?”

He looked down into his coffee mug. “I… have no idea.”

“Hmm…” Darcy picked up her mug and sipped at the rich coffee as she considered what their story should be. “It wouldn’t be anything fancy,” she decided.

Bucky looked up at her. “It wouldn’t?”

“Nope. You strike me as one of those classic guys who just gets down on one knee and goes for it. No filler or distractions.”

His exhale was loud enough for her to hear it. “Okay,” he agreed.

“And you wouldn’t want an audience; it would be just the two of us.”

He nodded. “There’s a waterfall just outside the city. I took you there for a picnic. I asked while you were packing up the basket to leave.”

Darcy opened her mouth to reply, but he’d stolen her voice. It was rare that her babbling self was ever speechless. This was so dangerous because she actually liked the guy. Lines were bound to get blurred in her head just like they were now as she considered how much she would have loved his proposal idea, how she would have eaten it up and thrown herself at him with “yes, yes, yes” tripping off her tongue faster than she could even think it.

“Yes, good,” she finally said. “I like it. A lot.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yep. It’s perfect. Now, how did we meet? Natasha says that we need to figure out the details and then they can make the paperwork match.”

* * *

**[July 8, 2018, 9:51pm]**

Darcy had decided that they met when Jane was invited to Wakanda by Shuri to consult on a paper Jane had written and published in The Astrophysical Journal. The timeline worked with them having met just over a year ago in July. Darcy and Jane had both been in the Netherlands working alone at a remote telescope for a month. It was plausible that Jane had requested a last-minute flight on the quinjet from Steve since she knew him from dating Thor.

After Darcy had decided _when_ they met, she’d looked at Bucky for ideas on _how_ they met. “Dinner with T’Challa and his family. We sat beside each other and I asked you to dinner the next day, just the two of us,” he’d said, not missing a beat.

Darcy had laughed and told him again that he moved fast, but really she was just flustered over how easily and quickly he’d bought into the story she was telling. Maybe it would be okay after all.

After deciding on their first date and how they navigated a long-distance relationship—complete with a list of dates in which they’d seen each other stored on Darcy’s phone until they could both memorize them—Darcy stretched her arms in the air. “The coffee is gone. You wanna move this inside?”

He glanced down at the two boxes, each containing a wedding ring. She’d been ignoring them so as to not make him nervous. They could no longer be ignored, though. “You can go on to sleep,” he said. “You’re probably tired from traveling. One of the guards can show you to the room.”

“We still have things to go over and plan.”

“Tomorrow,” he told her. “It can wait.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to get rid of me, would you?”

His smile was strained. “No.”

Darcy reached out and used the tip of her index finger to push his box toward him. “You gonna put it on?”

“In the morning,” he replied.

She stood up and looked down at him. “Are you anxious or are do you want to be alone?”

“Anxious.” His response was immediate, like he didn’t even have to think about it.

Darcy picked up both leather boxes and cocked her head at him. “Come on, then. We still need to figure out what foods you hate and what foods I love and how many dinners you’ve burned trying to be sweet and cook a romantic dinner at home for me.”

“All of them. I’m sure I’ve burned all of them,” he said, standing and stepping back so she could walk in front of him.

“And yet, it was still very sweet and I ate that dry-ass chicken anyway,” Darcy replied as she passed by on her way to the door.

Bucky followed her inside to find an empty dining hall with one guard by the door. They both nodded as they made their way down the hall. “Thank you,” Bucky murmured as they turned the corner.

“For what?”

He chuckled as he shook his head. “What do you mean, for what? For this. For everything.”

“You don’t need to—”

“For making this easier on me,” he interrupted. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but… thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me for being a decent human being, dude.” She looked over her shoulder because he was half a step behind her. “Where is your room?”

“Around the corner, second door.”

“This place is big,” she said, turning down another hallway.”

“Royal palace, I guess,” Bucky told her.

She stopped in front of his door and watched him open it with the retina scanner. “So, you’ve been living here for two years?”

“Here in Wakanda, not here in this room. This is just for tonight.”

She stepped into the beautiful guest room. One bed, a seating area by large windows, and an adjoining bathroom that was currently dark. “Nice,” she said, looking around. She let her fingers drag across the curtains and then over the back of one of the chairs. “Where have you been living?”

“In a hut closer to the farmlands. A twenty-minute walk south or a few minutes in a transport.”

“You prefer open space?”

“Yes,” he said, standing awkwardly by the door he’d just shut.

Darcy sat the two jewelry boxes on a small circular table with intricate carvings up its legs. “I think they have us living in an apartment in New York City. The real estate arm of Stark Industries owns the building. Steve and Natasha and a few of the others will be living there, too. Are you okay with that?”

“Okay with living in a building Tony Stark owns?”

“Okay with living in the middle of Manhattan. It’s people piled on top of people, which is a far cry from a hut next to farmland.”

Bucky stepped further into the room and absently rubbed his right hand up and down the bicep of his prosthetic arm. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“Well, you do. We could tell them we want to live in Montana or something.”

“Would you actually be happy in Montana?”

She snorted. “I’ve been living in remote areas with no cell coverage and lots of telescopes for years. Montana sounds like more of the same.”

He sat down in one of the armchairs and looked up at her. “But you’re looking forward to New York.”

“Well, sure.” She sat down across from him. “Do you have any idea how long it has been since I had a decent bagel? A long time,” she answered right away. “But we should go where you want to go, Bucky. This is about you, not me.”

“Manhattan is fine. I need to get used to people again,” he told her. “Crowds and cars and noise. I need to do it.”

“Immersion therapy?”

He gave her that sad smile of his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Darcy studied his face when he dropped his gaze to the floor between them. He seemed tired and worried and so very uncomfortable. While she wasn’t exactly in her element, Darcy wished she could alleviate some of that stress weighing him down; she just didn’t know how. Talking seemed to pull him out of his head and distract him, though.

“What’s the first movie I made you watch?” she asked.

“Star Wars,” he said like it wasn’t even a question.

“And you loved it.”

“Of course,” he told her. “Even the prequels.”

Darcy scrunched her face up. “Blasphemy, sir. Although, I do enjoy some of that Ewan McGregor eye candy as Obi-Wan.”

“Which is why we only watched them once,” Bucky shot back, one side of his mouth curved up just a bit.

“Jealous, my dear husband?”

Her response just made him laugh nervously as he dropped his gaze to the floor again.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Darcy stood up and said, “This dress is getting uncomfortable and I see that your meddling friend Steve had my overnight bag dropped off.” She pointed at the duffle bag on the bed. It was purple with drawings of dinosaur skeletons all over it. “Do you mind if I change into something more comfortable?” Holding up a hand, she said, “And by comfortable, I don’t mean lingerie. I mean literally comfy—like sweats and an old shirt. Maybe my trusty old granny panties.”

He wouldn’t look at her, but he did say, “Yeah, sure.” The marriage thing made him uncomfortable. He wouldn’t even look at the boxes that held their rings. They were sitting there on the table by the window and he looked anywhere but at them. Right now, he was also looking anywhere but at her, and she had no idea how to make it easier for him despite what he’d claimed.

“You want the bathroom first?” she asked.

There was the nervous grimace again. “No, it’s all yours.”

“Okay.” Darcy snagged her bag off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. “See you back here in ten. We have more history to write.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and squees and squeals and sighs over how adorably awkward and nervous Bucky is. Tomorrow these two might be slipping on those rings and making up their own vows.


	6. Chapter 6

> _”On a live wire right up off the street. You and I should meet, June bug skipping like a stone with the headlights pointed at the dawn. We were sure we’d never see an end to it all.” - The Smashing Pumpkins (1979)_

**[July 8, 2018, 10:32pm]**

While he could still hear water running in the bathroom sink, Bucky quickly changed out of the getup that Shuri had insisted he wear and put on the clothes he’d started the day in—a brown pair of pants he’d not worn out yet and the white tank. He’d reconsidered the tank top when he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror. It would allow her to see his entire arm, including some of the scarring where the metal met his skin. She’s going to see you like this eventually if you’re going to be living together for a year, he reminded himself.

She was kind and sweet with an ability to put him at ease. She’d pulled him out of his head and made him help her create their history. It was like looking into some alternate reality where he was happy when she talked about how he’d saved her from getting hit by a hovercraft during their first date after dinner or how they talked on the phone every night when she was away or how she was ticklish on her sides just above the curve of her hip.

He’d contributed to their history, but he’d swallowed some of the things he’d wanted to add, feeling like he was just being silly or getting carried away with this make-believe business. Like how nobody saw them for two days when she came for a visit because he missed her so much he didn’t want to share her time. Or how Shuri had encouraged him to ask Darcy out on a date so he owed the young woman for more than just his mind. That little addition was a bit too close to the truth to say, though.

The lines between real and fake were already blurred and they hadn’t even really begun. What about a month from now? Six months? How blurred would they be then? He couldn’t imagine life with her right now, but would it be harder to imagine life without her in a year? Bucky recoiled at the thought of missing her. This was business. This was a _transaction_. No matter how nice she was to him or how easy she made this feel, she was getting paid a handsome sum of money to play house with him. Besides, his life didn’t lend itself to relationships. Steve had tried and failed with a woman named Sharon who was on the periphery of their world. How would Bucky ever make it work for real with someone who wasn’t even in the military or intelligence community?

Bucky sat down heavily on the foot of the bed. He didn’t even _know_ her and he was having these ridiculous thoughts about the future. It didn’t matter that the thoughts were about his inability to have what he wanted. The fact was that he shouldn’t even be thinking about it. It was crazy. A year, maybe a year and change, and then they’d be done. Divorce or annulment. That’s what she wanted and what he wanted, too. He couldn’t be responsible for her when he couldn’t even handle life on his own.

The door to the bathroom clicked open and she slipped out in a pair of dark grey cotton pants and an oversized blue T-shirt that matched her eyes. “Bathroom is yours,” she said.

“I changed already,” he replied, holding out his arms and waiting for her reaction to the vibranium one.

“Uh, I see.” Darcy tucked her hair behind her ears and tentatively approached him. “So, wow. I, uh, I saw that baby when we spoke on the phone or com network or whatever, but… wow.”

He clenched his teeth together for a moment before rolling the shoulder back and saying, “I figured you were going to see it sooner or later if we’re going to live together.”

“Yeah, for sure,” she replied, taking another step closer. She was within a couple feet of his knees now. It was the nearest she’d been to him since dinner. “So, can you feel things with it?”

She wasn’t afraid. And she wasn’t looking at the ugly scars that cut across his collarbone. “Yeah,” he replied, wetting his dry lips with his tongue.

“It’s… amazing. The technology that must have gone into making it is… Wow.”

“Does it bother you?” he asked. Deep down he knew the answer. When it bothered people, they’d ignore it, pretend like he didn’t have what looked like a dangerous weapon hanging from his shoulder. She was gawking at it and him. It took him by surprise that the gawking didn’t feel nearly as bad as people who would ignore the arm.

Darcy shook her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me. It’s actually really cool. When did they… you know? Steve said Tony ripped your other one off in Siberia.”

“About nine months ago,” he said. “Shuri campaigned for it as soon as she brought me out of cryo.” He chuckled and shook his head. “She actually worked on it and had it in a case for a long time before I agreed. I thought I’d agreed to let her start working on it and then she pulls out this damn case, pops it open, and there’s the arm like some… guitar just laying in there.”

Darcy walked around behind him and plopped down at the head of the bed, her back resting against the pillows and her legs crisscrossed. “Hmmm,” she mused, thinking something over. Bucky turned around to look at her when she said, “So, our story is we got married nine months ago. What if you agreed to the arm for the wedding?”

His stomach clenched up. The wedding. God, he was supposed to be married to this woman. The idea of a wedding seemed ridiculous, but there was a little part of him in the back corner of his mind that relished the idea. What would it feel like to stand up there and tell everyone you loved someone and hear them say it back, hear them promise to stay with you no matter what? “Yeah,” he agreed, “for the wedding.”

“Good, good. So, this is starting to come together,” Darcy said, shifting the pillows behind her back to make herself more comfortable. She must have seen the look in his eyes because she froze and said, “Is this okay? Us sitting on the bed together? I mean, I don’t want to crowd you. Your boundaries are important even though we won’t always be able to—”

“It’s fine,” he said, interrupting the chatter and almost-apology coming from her. “I don’t mind. I need to get used to being around people, being closer to people. It’s really not that difficult with you. I’m okay.”

She gave him a warm smile that almost knocked the breath right out of him. “Good.” Waving her phone in the air, she said, “Okay, let’s get back to writing our story. I’ll take notes and we can memorize everything on the flight tomorrow.”

Part of him wanted to call it quits before this got out of hand. The work ahead of him to find his footing and navigate expectations was daunting. The future loomed before him, filled with unknowns.

She patted the mattress next to her. “Come sit up here and tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Like you’re my therapist?”

“I went to school for poli-sci, not psychology. Like I’m your friend,” she corrected. “Or wife. Wow, still weird to say that.”

“Are you?”

“Well, I’m not yet, but apparently I will be tomorrow. And it’ll be retroactive.”

“My friend,” Bucky clarified.

“Oh, well… sure. I think we should at least try to be friends if we’re gonna spend a year pretending. Right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. _Friends_. He didn’t have many of those. In fact, he could count them on one hand. “Can you just… decide to be friends with someone?”

“Sure,” she said, shifting in the bed. “Now tell me what you were thinking about.”

He turned in the bed so he no longer had his back to her, bending one leg at the knee as he brought it up onto the mattress. “I was thinking about the future and how I don’t know what’s going to happen or what they’ll want from me or how I’ll cope with… all of it. How I’ll fit in.”

“You don’t have to cope with any of it, you know. You could just move to the country and farm and live a quiet little life. If you want, that is.”

“I want to help Steve.”

“Do you, though?” she said, challenging his statement.

Bucky closed his mouth and thought her question over. Was it just guilt driving him? No, not really. There was guilt there, but his desire to help balance things out was more complex than just guilt. “Yeah, I do. I’m just afraid I’ll fuck things up even more if I help.”

“I think you’ll be fine, Bucky,” she said with a gentle smile, her eyes crinkling up at the corners.

“I hope you’re right.”

She patted the bed again. “Come on. We have a story to write and we have about six hours before early bird Steve Rogers comes knocking on the door.”

Bucky chuckled and moved to sit beside her at the head of the bed. He left almost two feet of space between them as he settled in and extended his legs. “Is this a bad time to tell you that I get up between four and five every morning?”

“It’s always a bad time to tell me that. But this is good. Our first fight was over you waking me up at four-thirty in the damn morning when I sleep over at your place.”

“Why am I waking you up at four-thirty in the morning?”

“Well, not for sex if that’s what you’re alluding to. We wouldn’t be arguing about _that_ wakeup call. Probably for workouts. I tell you I want to work out and you decide it has to be before the sun rises because you’re a maniac.”

His mind had tripped up on her sex comment, and now all he could think about was sleeping in the same bed with her and waking her up with his hands and mouth on her body. It was inappropriate, and maybe that’s why the rush it gave him was so intense. “And that’s the story of why we don’t work out together,” he said after too many beats of silence.

Did she know he was still thinking about being in bed with her? Not in bed with her like they were at the moment—friends who were talking and making plans—but in bed like lovers with lips and tongues and skin and hot breaths. It had been so long since he’d fantasized about a woman he knew. Mostly, it was just nameless and, sometimes, faceless women he conjured up when he took himself in his own hand to find release. He knew the next time he was alone and his hand drifted down to his cock, it would be Darcy on his mind. _Your wife_, he reminded himself. Jerking off to his fake-wife like a loser.

Darcy was using her thumbs to quickly type something into her phone, perhaps taking notes like she’d told him she would. “This is good. The devil is in the details. What next?”

* * *

**[July 9, 2018, 3:27am]**

Darcy was tired. He could see it in the way her lids were half-closed and hear it in her delayed responses. She tried to hide it, but she wasn’t fooling him. Dropping her phone on the bed, she leaned back into the pillows propped against the headboard. He listened to her slow, steady inhale and exhale. “You think we can pull this off?” she asked, eyes on the ceiling.

“Maybe,” Bucky told her.

“Your confidence in me is encouraging.” Her voice was dry as she rolled her eyes over to look at him.

Bucky shook his head. “It’s not you I’m worried about. I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You keep saying that. Can I ask you to clarify what you mean by _this_?” She used air quotes to emphasize the last word.

Now she had her gaze fully on him and she seemed more alert than she had a moment ago when they’d been discussing what movies she loved and if one of the quirks of their relationship would be that he hated _Love, Actually_ and despaired when she’d told him she watches it around the holidays each year. Bucky had never seen the movie but by the description she gave, it sounded like something he had no ability to relate to. His life didn’t include even the prospect of it.

“Bucky?” she said, startling him out of his thoughts.

“This is… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Is ‘this’ faking a relationship with me?”

“A marriage,” he corrected.

She huffed out a breath of laughter that very clearly told him she thought he was being silly. “A marriage,” Darcy agreed. “When you said you don’t know if you can do this—do you mean faking a marriage with me?”

“I mean living again. Actually doing something other than tilling a field for crops or bundling hay or feeding the goats.”

“I hate to break it to you, but farmwork is considering living to a lot of, well, farmers.”

Bucky looked away from her. His eyes landed on the two boxes with their rings inside and he let his gaze skate right over them. “You know what I mean. Living is talking to people, helping Steve and his team fight, living under the thumb of the U.S. government, having neighbors all around me...”

“Living with me?”

“That, too.”

“Look, if the problem isn’t me, then I can help.”

He finally turned his gaze back to her. She really was very pretty. Big eyes, full lips, long brown hair he’d love to touch. Maybe he’d get to touch her one day when they were pretending. The idea excited him, but also made him feel like an asshole. The silver of the little stud in her nose caught the light now and then, drawing his attention to it. “Sweetheart, you’re probably the easiest thing about this situation right now. I thought you’d be the hardest.”

Those lips parted and she blinked before sliding her gaze off to the side. He watched her press her lips together and smile. It was a sweet, soft smile, maybe a little embarrassed at what he’d just said. Embarrassed or flattered, he wondered. “Okay,” she said after a few seconds had passed. “Then let me be your buffer. You, then me, then the world.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Well, not forever. Just for now, just for a week. Just until we’re settled. We need a secret signal or word or something. If you’re feeling like you can’t deal, then you let me know and I’ll work my magic and get us the hell out of there or I’ll take the pressure off you.”

“And how are you gonna do that?” he asked.

“Depends on the situation. Make a scene, tell people we made plans to bone since I’m ovulating.”

“Plans to what?”

“Sex. Wasn’t part of the fake marriage deal that they think you’re trying to be a family man like Clint Barton?”

“Oh.” Bucky didn’t know what else to say. She was going to tell people they needed to leave so he could… So they could… But they wouldn’t. It was just a story, a cover. He licked his lips. “You’re actually gonna say that?”

“Sure. Basically, if you make people uncomfortable enough, they don’t mind if you skip out. Too much? Would it bother you?”

Bother him? If he weren’t so anxious, he would have laughed. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Look, I’m a good buffer. I promise. I’ve been doing it for a long time, even before Jane.”

“For who?”

Her smile was tight and just a little uncomfortable. “I’ll tell you later. It’s… a long story. Or, well, it’s not exactly long, but it’s difficult to tell.”

“And you’re tired,” he told her.

“I’m not,” Darcy insisted as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand to hide a yawn.

He leaned his head against the wall behind him. “Why don’t you lie down and close your eyes for a minute. You could probably get a good hour or two of sleep before we gotta leave.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. Clearing her throat, she continued with, “So, are we, uh… We should probably… I know it makes you uncomfortable, but I think we should probably deal with the rings now rather than later. I mean, we’re going to have to put them on eventually.”

Bucky looked over at the boxes on the table across the room. He’d had dreams of marriage a long time ago. He’d thought he’d get back from the War and all the girls would swoon over how heroic he was. He’d thought he’d see a few of them, take them dancing and have a good time. And then he’d find one he would want to call on the next day and the day after that and the day after that. And that would be the girl he’d marry. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Now, marriage was a verbal contract with a woman he barely knew who was getting paid to pretend to be in love with him. It felt cheap. It hurt to know that was all he could have now that things had gone so far sideways. The future was uncertain, but he knew it couldn’t include a wife, not a real one. His life was too fucked up to accommodate something real and good like that.

“Yeah,” he agreed with her, eyes never shifting away from the innocuous boxes sitting there like two little bombs. This is another reason he’d told Steve no when the idea had originally been brought up, but he hadn’t wanted to verbalize it. Pretending that he had something he wanted in his life hurt because it was just pretending. It was all just make-believe, fake, a ruse. Actually, he didn’t even like thinking about how much he wished things were different. Because they weren’t and never would be.

Darcy swung her legs over the edge of the bed and pushed herself to her feet. Bucky tracked her moment across the floor and back. She climbed up into the bed with him, sitting cross-legged facing him. “Do you feel like there should be a drumroll or something? Maybe some suspenseful music?” She smiled at the question, obviously trying to put him at ease.

Bucky was anything but at ease when he leaned forward and turned so he could mimic her posture—cross-legged and forearms resting on his knees as he watched her arrange the two boxes in the foot of space between them. “Is mine the grey or the black?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Guess we’ll find out.” She opened the black one first to reveal a simple white gold band. It was slim and delicate and he knew right away that it belonged on her hand. Bucky looked from the ring back up to Darcy’s face. She was staring at the ring like it was something new and bizarre. “So, mine, I guess. Right?”

“Right,” Bucky agreed. Trying to still the trembling of his right hand, he reached out and flipped up the lid on the grey box. A matching band was nestled between the tiny pillows. It was a bit wider and thicker than Darcy’s had been. It wasn’t until that moment Bucky realized something he hadn’t even considered when mulling over this insanity the past few weeks. A wedding ring was for the ring finger of your _left_ hand. He didn’t think it would fit on the vibranium finger, and if it did then chances were high it would slip off and be lost. “Uh,” he said, turning his gaze up to Darcy.

“Yeah,” she said, picking up on what he wanted to say but couldn’t. “That’s not going to work on your left hand.”

“I… I could talk to Steve and see if—”

“I’ve done a lot of traveling these past few years. Sometimes I’ll end up in a bar in a foreign country. When that happens, it’s really helpful to know that some cultures wear their wedding ring on their left hand.”

Bucky looked down at Darcy’s hands, devoid of all rings. “Something tells me there is a story behind that.”

“Oh, you know, just lonely Darcy hitting on a guy who was very married and very not interested. Nothing exciting, just a little sad and pathetic. Anyway, places like Russia and Denmark and Norway and Spain and Greece wear their wedding rings on their right hands. How do you feel about being fancy and European?”

He raised his brows at her. “Fancy and European?”

“Sure. I’m down. We can be, like, wedding hipsters and start a new trend that says you can wear your wedding ring on whatever finger you feel like.”

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, but couldn’t seem to hide his smile. She was so good at taking all that anxiety and those awkward thoughts kicking around in his brain and clearing them away with a wave of her hand. She did it in such a way that he wasn’t even self-conscious or embarrassed. It was a gift, and he didn’t know how Steve had somehow managed to find the one person who could make this disaster feel manageable.

“Okay,” Bucky agreed. He still couldn’t bring himself to reach out and pluck the ring from the box where it was nestled between two cushions.

Darcy seemed to be having the same problem as she sat across from him. She shifted and the mattress moved beneath both of them. “Soooo... “ she began, “do we just… put them on?”

“I, uh, think so,” Bucky told her.

“It feels… wrong to just slide them on and move on. I mean, it’ll be legal. We’ll be, like, actually married.”

Swallowing to alleviate the way his throat was constricting, he said, “You want a… wedding?” Was that his voice? It sounded strangled.

Darcy glanced up at him, eyes wide. “No. No! I mean, well… do you?”

“No.” His answer was emphatic.

She was smiling now. “Right. That’d be really weird. But we should do something, yeah? Like, maybe… Maybe we could have our own vows. Like, I promise to grin and bear this crazy situation and support you or whatever. You know?”

Bucky closed his eyes and tilted his head down as he smiled. She sounded so young, so sweet, so innocent sometimes. It made him feel bad about hijacking a year or more of her life. She deserved a guy who wanted to be with her and who could take care of her. Love her. He didn’t think he was capable of that any longer. Maybe before he’d been captured by HYDRA that first time. Maybe even before the train. But not after the train. Definitely not now.

Give her what she wants, he told himself. It wouldn’t even cost him that much to promise not to be an asshole to her. “Okay,” he agreed after what felt like minutes but was probably only a couple seconds. “What are the vows?”

Darcy nibbled on her lower lip as she stared off into the distance, thinking of what she wanted to say. He waited, unable to come up with his own words because he was too intent on hearing what she was going to say.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s see.” Her gaze focused on him again; it made him want to crawl under the bed. This was going to be a disaster. “I promise to… help you convince everyone that we were married a few months ago so you can get and maintain your amnesty. And I promise to act as your world buffer by listening to you and helping you get out of situations that make you uncomfortable as fast as I can. And I promise to show you only the most amazing movies and TV shows, partly because Shuri said I need to and partly because I want to. And I promise to help you experience all the things you want to—and avoid the things you don’t—during our time being kinda-fake-married.” She paused before saying, “Oh, and I promise to respect your privacy and space as much as I can as long as you understand that these government people coming to check on us are probably expecting us to, like, at least hold hands or sit beside each other or something.” Darcy gave him a shy smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered, trying to pull in a breath when his chest was too tight to expand. “You’re perfect.”

This made her laugh softly. “Hardly, but thanks. Put that compliment in your back pocket and pull it out when we have our first weekly check-in. If it’s been about nine months, then we’re probably still in the honeymoon period, especially since I’m supposed to have been traveling during this year we’ve been together.”

“Honeymoon period,” he said. Bucky wasn’t sure if it was a statement or question, but she must have taken it as a question.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “We’re still all lovey-dovey and shit. Holdy-hands and kissy-face and moo-moo-eyes and… you know, stuff couples do when it’s still new and they can’t stand how in love they are.”

Bucky exhaled a shuddering breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.” It wasn’t okay because now it was all crashing down on him. He was actually going to have to touch her and pretend like it meant nothing once they were alone. Or was the problem that he had to touch her and pretend like it meant something in front of an audience? Or was the problem that he had to touch her, period? Could he actually do this? For a _year_?

“Hey,” she said, waving her hand in front of his face. “Are you okay, Bucky?”

He shook his head to clear the jumble of thoughts. “I… Yeah, I’m okay.” _Liar_, he told himself.

“You don’t have to say any vows or anything,” Darcy said, reaching for the box that held her ring.

“No,” Bucky said, “I… I should. You did. It’s only fair.”

Her sweet smile made him so weak that he was grateful to be sitting on his ass. “It’s not fair. You’re being forced into this.”

“So are you.”

“I can say no, but I didn’t. Plus, I’m getting paid. You’re getting your life back, which is bullshit because you should be able to get your life back without jumping through this stupid hoop that some bureaucratic asshole put up to make himself feel better. Like, what the fuck are they getting out of putting you through this? You were a prisoner of war for _decades_.” There was fire in her eyes like she’d already decided she was on his side. Each passing minute made him understand a little more why Steve was so optimistic about this plan. No regular woman could pull this off, but maybe Darcy Lewis could.

“You’re defending me and we just met. How do you know I’m worth all that?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious. Not even that hard to see, dude.”

“Most people don’t see what you see.”

“That’s because most people don’t get to talk to you one-on-one like this. I bet once these government lackeys visit a few times, they’ll confirm that you’re not a threat and stop hounding you and trying to nose into your life.”

Bucky looked down at the two jewelry boxes, each holding a gold band. One for his finger, one for hers. Two little lies about how much they loved each other. It was a terrible beginning to a strange friendship, and he’d be lucky to count her as his friend after all was said and done.

“So, my vow,” he said again.

“Bucky, you don’t—”

“I want to,” he interrupted. After wetting his dry lips with his tongue, he looked up to meet her gaze and said, “I promise I’ll try not to be an asshole and that I’ll do my best to make this easier for you. And I promise to protect you from anyone who might try to hurt you. And I promise to watch your movies even if they are terrible.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

Her reaction made him smile and loosened the tightness in his chest just the slightest bit. “And I’ll try not to be weird and awkward about the touching thing. I’ve, uh, been avoiding people in general lately so… it’s something I’m not completely comfortable with.”

His comment sobered her and wiped the joy right off her face. He felt like a jerk for even bringing it up. “You know we’re going to have to be close in order to convince these people that we’re married, right?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Bucky.”

“You won’t. You… It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I mean, I don’t think they’re going to make us lock lips or anything, but… I don’t think we’re going to be very convincing if we’re formal and sit, like, a foot apart and don’t touch at all.”

“I know,” he insisted. “And I’m okay with that. I… I am.” It was as if he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“You don’t seem okay with that,” Darcy said. Her gaze was intense and focused on him. She _cared_ and that made him feel anxious. Being around people who cared like Steve and Sam and Shuri… Well, sometimes that was difficult because he felt the weight of their concern and sympathy. People who didn’t give him a second glance were easier. People who didn’t like him were easier. She wanted him to be happy and the pressure associated with trying to please her by finding happiness gave him anxiety.

“I’m okay. If you… If we touch, that’s okay. Really,” he said.

She looked like she wanted to say something more but swallowed her words and looked down at the rings sitting on the mattress between them. “I guess we should put these on.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, not moving to pick his up.

Darcy chewed on her lower lip but didn’t make a move either. Like him, she’d never been married. Shuri had told him that shortly after he’d agreed. Bucky tried not to think about it because it made him feel bad he was robbing her of a first that should have been memorable and joyful. “I’m sorry,” he told her, giving voice to his thoughts.

“Why?” She was watching him now.

“For taking this away from you. When you get married for the first time, it shouldn’t be because you’re getting paid to pretend.”

She smiled. “For the first time? You think I intend to get married a few times?”

“You know what I mean. I wish it wasn’t this way for you.”

“What about you?” Darcy asked. “You deserve better, too.”

“What I deserve or don’t deserve doesn’t matter, sweetheart. This is my problem, not yours..”

Darcy plucked his ring out of the grey box, slipping it over the very tip of the index finger on her right hand.

“That’s mine,” he said.

“I know. Let’s do this kinda right. I’ll put it on you. You put mine on me. The first time we touch hands shouldn’t be in front of the government, right?”

Exhaling a shuddering breath, he nodded. “Right.”

“Give me your hand.”

Bucky flexed his right hand, curling the fingers into his palm and extending them a couple of times before he held it out to her. It was a surprise to find no visible trembling. His nerves were shot and this entire situation was overwhelming.

“Is it okay if I touch your hand?” she asked.

He gave her a tight smile. “I’m holding it out, ain’t I?”

Darcy tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, but consent has gotta be important, especially with what you’ve been through. Can I touch your hand?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Gingerly, she supported his right hand with her left while she slipped the gold band on his ring finger. Her skin was warm and very soft. Her nails were painted a deep navy blue. He closed his eyes when she squeezed his hand in both of hers before letting go and saying, “Here’s to your eventual freedom and the crazy journey along the way.”

Her sweet comment made him smile before he opened his eyes. The ring felt foreign. Bucky wondered if the sensation of it wrapped around his finger would ever fade into the back of his mind or if he’d always be hyper-aware of its presence there. Instead of dwelling on it, he mustered his courage and removed her smaller—almost delicate—ring from the black box.

“Can I…?” he asked.

Darcy nodded, her upper teeth pressing into her lower lip. It only made him think about kissing. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“I’m nervous,” he admitted.

She nodded again. “Me too. We’ll get through this, though. It’ll be a piece of cake, probably.” He looked down at her hand. She’d offered her right so they could wear their wedding bands on the same hands.

“Can I touch you with my left hand or would you prefer I—”

She cut him off by saying, “It’s fine. You can… you can touch me with either or both. I trust you.”

Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat and carefully placed his left hand under her right one so he could slip the band around her ring finger with his flesh and blood hand. It took him a couple tries to get it on her finger, but once he managed it, the ring fit perfectly. “Here’s to you being debt-free this time next year and maybe free of me, too.”

She gave him a disapproving look, eyes narrowed. “Don’t say mean things like that about yourself.”

Bucky let go of her hand and rubbed his palms over the legs of his pants, trying to erase the memory of touching her skin. “I just don’t want you wasting all your time on me,” he explained.

“I’m not wasting any of my time,” Darcy told him.

He looked down to see her twisting the gold band around her finger with the pad of her thumb. “Feels weird, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Little bit,” she agreed. “Do you think we’ll ever forget that we’re wearing them?”

“I can’t imagine forgetting,” he replied, shaking his head.

She nodded. “Me neither.”

Bucky watched as she tried to hide a yawn with the back of her right hand, the flash of the ring in the light distracting him for a moment. “Lie down and rest your eyes for a minute,” he told her. “We still have a couple of hours before we need to leave.”

“I’m okay,” she insisted, yawning again.

“Just rest your eyes, sweetheart.”

She smiled, her eyes drooping. “So, should I call you babe if you call me sweetheart?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He snapped it closed, tried to gather his wits and start again. “You can call me whatever you want.”

“Mmm, we’ll see,” she said, shifting around until she was propped against the pillows and the headboard. “You aren’t going to leave, are you?”

“Leave?”

“Leave me alone in this room if I close my eyes.”

“No,” he promised. “I ain’t leaving.”

“Okay,” she said, letting her eyes close. Her thumb was still worrying the band around her finger. He watched the way she played with it for a moment longer before her hand went slack and her breathing evened out.

When he knew she was asleep, he looked down at his own ring, seeming so out-of-place on his finger. He was actually going to do this and it was still terrifying, but maybe things would work out in the end. Maybe he’d get his life back and help her get out of debt along the way. Maybe they could become friends. Maybe they could even stay friends after they ended this sham of a marriage. Maybe.


	7. Chapter 7

> _”And I want you to be my alibi so they won’t find me and they won’t find you. And we may tell lies, but we may be true.” - Duncan Sheik (Alibi)_

**[July 9, 2018, 7:31am]**

She woke up disoriented and confused but only for a moment. As soon as she pushed herself up off the pillows she’d been reclined on, Darcy remembered exactly where she was. In Wakanda. In a room in King T’Challa’s home. She looked over at the pink-tinged light filtering through the window and saw the profile of a man sitting in an armchair. I’m with Bucky Barnes, she thought. With Bucky Barnes and wearing a wedding ring. The band on the ring finger of her right hand felt heavy, almost awkward.

“Hey,” she said, voice soft.

“Hey,” he replied, watching her from his spot by the window.

“Sorry. I fell asleep.” Darcy wanted to roll her eyes at the stupid statement. He already knew she’d been sleeping. What if she snored? Could she just die of embarrassment right now?

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. “Don’t apologize. I was hoping you would get some rest. Steve came by a few minutes ago. They’re almost ready to leave.”

“They?”

He gave her a tight smile. “We, I guess. We’re almost ready to leave.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“We’ve gotta memorize what we came up with last night on the flight. You probably won’t have much time to rest and you seemed tired.” He looked down at the floor for a couple of beats before looking back up at her. “I asked Steve to give us a few more minutes.”

Darcy pushed her hair back and tried her best to detangle it with her fingers. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah.”

She stood and straightened her billowy shirt. “You sure?”

He smiled at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“You don’t look sure,” Darcy replied, walking over to sit in the chair across from him. He had his thumb shoved between his middle and ring fingers, worrying the gold band on his hand just like she’d been doing last night.

“Just thinking about the next few hours.”

“They’re going to be pretty shitty,” Darcy agreed. “Good thing you’ve got a buffer.”

This time his smile was more genuine. “Yeah? How is my buffer going to get me out of this meeting with men who don’t trust me and might want to kill me?”

“You’d be surprised at how easy it is to make a grown man uncomfortable enough to leave a room. I’d say it’s a talent, but you guys fold like a lawn chair most of the time.” She ducked her head in an attempt to catch his eye. “If I promise not to grope your junk, do I have permission to do what I need to do to get you the shortest meeting possible?”

He met her gaze. “Sweetheart, you have permission to do whatever you want if it means we can get out of there faster.”

His answer took her by surprise. She’d been expecting more resistance and questions as to what her plans were. “Wow, such trust,” she told him. “You don’t strike me as the type to give that easily.”

“Must be something about you. Steve said he trusted you right away. Natasha is almost as jaded as I am and even she said she does, too.”

It was a high compliment. Darcy could feel her cheeks flush as she looked away. “Wow,” she repeated.

“I want you to trust me, too,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The comment made her gaze jerked back over to him. “I do,” she answered right away. “I do trust you.”

“I… I promise to be a gentleman. I know this is probably uncomfortable for you.”

Darcy laughed under her breath. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not worried and I’m not uncomfortable. I fell asleep in a bed with you and we’ve only known each other for a few hours, which is a clear indication that I’m okay with this.”

“Or that you’re dead tired,” he added.

“Well, technically, it’s both. I thought the coffee would keep me up, but I must have overestimated the coffee or underestimated how tired I was.”

“That’s Steve,” Bucky said.

“What?” As soon as the question was out of her mouth, someone knocked at the door.

“You wanna get dressed? I’ll tell him we need a few more minutes.”

It wasn’t until then that she glanced at the clock and did the math in her head. “Shit, it’s almost eight. Bucky, we were supposed to leave at seven.”

“You were tired,” he said.

“Yeah, but all of you have a meeting with Ross at, like, seven in the morning in D.C. It’s a six-hour flight. We’re gonna be late.”

Someone—probably Steve—knocked on the door again. Darcy hurried over and pulled it open. He seemed surprised to see her instead of Bucky. “Hey,” Steve said. “Almost ready?”

“I’ll hurry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you wait,” she said, stepping back to let him in.

Darcy turned around to look at Bucky. “You wouldn’t be trying to sabotage your chances, would you?”

He looked away, but she could see the muscles in his jaw as they flexed.

“Buck,” Steve said, taking another step in the room.

“Can I have a minute with him?” she asked Steve. “I mean, we’re already going to be late, right?”

Steve sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” True to his word, Steve backed out of the room and shut the door behind himself.

“You know you can tell me if you don’t want to do this,” she told Bucky.

She walked over to stand in front of his chair, but he refused to turn his head. Instead, he focused his attention out the window at the bright sun as it climbed higher up into the sky. After a few seconds of being ignored, she used a hand on his knee to balance herself as she squatted down in front of him. The touch made him jerk his head to look at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“Do you want to stay?” Darcy asked.

“It’s not that easy,” was his only reply.

“I know it isn’t easy, but it’s your choice.”

“Everyone is telling me that staying isn’t a choice, that it’s just me hiding because I don’t have any other options.” She could see unshed tears glistening on his lower lids. He was hurting, and she hadn’t realized how bad until that moment. Darcy wanted to lean forward and wrap her arms around him in a hug, but just her hand on his knee seemed to put him on edge.

“Staying is a choice. Doing nothing is a choice,” she told him. “Do you want to stay?”

He closed his eyes and two tears rolled down his cheeks. “I just want it to stop,” he said. “I just want all this to be over. Sometimes I just… I don’t know.”

“We can delay this.”

“You’re already here. I don’t wanna jerk you around, sweetheart.”

“I can stick around for a while if you want. A few days or a few weeks. I get that we don’t know each other very well. Would it be easier if we did?” At that point in time, Darcy was sure she’d do pretty much anything to make him feel even just a little better. Her chest was tight and aching for him.

Bucky shook his head. “I ain’t putting you out like that.”

“You aren’t putting me out, jerk.”

Her response made him smile. “Steve calls me that.”

“Well, you drive a person to it when you won’t let them help you when they want to help you,” she said.

“You wanna help because you’re getting paid.”

“I’d do this even if I wasn’t getting paid. Would it make you feel better if I told them I didn’t want the—”

“No,” he said, swiftly cutting her offer off. “No.”

She looked down to see him playing with the ring, turning it in circles with the thumb and index finger of the vibranium hand. The ring flashed in the sunlight from the window. It wasn’t until that moment that she realized she’d forgotten about her matching wedding band. “Do you want to stay?” she repeated. “We can take these rings off and you can go back to your life.”

When he didn’t respond, she shifted to rest her knees on the floor in front of him and reached up to take the ring off her finger. “Don’t,” he whispered before she could get it past the first knuckle.

“Does that mean you wanna do this?”

Bucky flicked his tongue out to wet his lower lip before catching it between his teeth, dragging his lip forward until it broke free of his teeth. His gaze was on her, but his thoughts were elsewhere. “Do you?” he finally asked after a long moment of silence.

“I want to help you. I want to give you choices.”

“I don’t have many.”

“Let’s make some up. You stay here by yourself and continue living in Wakanda. You stay here by yourself and I come back in a few weeks to spend some time with you so you can decide if you want to try this. I stay here with you and we spend some time trying to figure out if you want to do this. We get dressed and get on the jet together so you can sign the contract and figure out how to live in the U.S. again.” She smiled up at him. “See? Choices.”

Bucky roughly rubbed the heel of his right hand over each cheek, wiping away the evidence of his tears. “You decide.”

She scoffed. “I’m not making your choices for you, dude.”

“I want you to.”

“Tough shit,” she shot back. “Let’s come at this from another angle. Do you want to be able to leave Wakanda even if it isn’t forever?”

“Yes,” was his immediate answer.

“Okay, so option one is out. I guess the next question is, do you want some time alone—without me around—to figure out how you feel about all this?”

“No,” he said. “I had that, and I still don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, so option two is out. So, we’ve got options three and four. Is staying here with me for a few days or a few weeks going to make you feel better about the situation back home?”

“I can’t throw off their entire deal because I can’t get my fuckin’ head right,” he told her.

Darcy put her hand on his knee again. Bucky’s eyes shifted down and they both looked at the wedding band on her finger. “You won’t. From what I understand, they want the team back together _bad_. If your buddy Steve tells them they’ll have to wait, then they’re going to wait. You have leverage.”

“No, I don’t. Steve has leverage.”

“And you have leverage with Steve.”

“Because he feels guilty for—”

“That’s not why you have leverage,” she said, cutting him off. “Pretty sure it’s because he loves you and wants you to be happy. He wants you to have a chance at living the way you choose after all these years of not having a choice.” Darcy looked at his hands, resting in his lap. “I know right now this isn’t what you’d choose—this marriage and all—but it’s just temporary. It’s just a stepping stone to get to that point. You know?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand. Darcy held her breath as she watched him weigh those two choices left to him. Stay here with her for a bit longer or leave now with her. She didn’t want to think about how easy it had been for him to decide that she was involved, regardless of the location.

“Do you need more time to get comfortable with me?” he asked when he dropped his hand so he could see her.

“I’m good,” she told him.

“Even with this?” he asked, holding his left arm out. The plates shifted as he turned it until his palm was opened to the ceiling.

Darcy moved her right hand off his knee and grabbed the cybernetic forearm, her grip firm. The contours—the dips and curves—told her it was an arm, but there was no give and no texture other than the thin grooves between the plates. She rubbed one of those grooves with the pad of her index finger. “This doesn’t bother me. I promise,” she told him.

He swallowed, lifting his chin with the effort and inhaled deeply through his nose, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Okay,” he said, twisting his arm out of her grasp and taking both her elbows in his hands. When he stood, he pulled her up off her knees with him. Before Darcy was able to orient herself, she was standing in front of him, toe-to-toe with their forearms pressed together and her elbows cupped in his hands.

“Okay?” she asked, her voice more breathy than she’d intended. It was hard to not sound like some love-struck teenager when he was standing there looking down at her like she meant something. He was gorgeous, but he was also a good guy. Like, probably better than any of her boyfriends had ever been. Definitely better than any of her boyfriends. Definitely hotter. And their very legally real marriage was about to be backdated to nine months ago once they told T’Challa what they’d decided.

“Okay, let’s do this,” he said.

“What are we doing?” She couldn’t stop staring at a strand of hair that had escaped the knot that sat messily at the back of his head. Darcy wanted to tuck it behind his ear, but she didn’t know how he’d feel about her being so free with the touching while they were alone and didn’t have to put on a show.

He smiled and it was sweet and kind even if she saw the fear in his eyes. “Let’s get on the jet and… see what happens.”

She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile back. “Let’s do it,” she agreed, reaching up and doing what she’d been thinking about by tucking the strand of brown hair right behind his ear. It was just a brief touch, but it was an intimate one that made her feel exposed and nervous. Before she could make a fool of herself, she spun away. His grip on her elbows was light, and he dropped his arms as soon as she made to pull away.

Darcy opened the door and poked her head out into the hall. “Is he okay?” Steve asked, pushing off the wall he’d been leaning against.

“Were you eavesdropping?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“No,” he replied quickly. “I was waiting.”

“And listening.”

He looked mollified when he nodded. His lips formed the words “thank you,” but he didn’t actually say them. Instead, he said, “How long do you need?”

“How long do I have?”

“We’re already late. You can have as long as you want. Ross can wait,” Steve said.

“Can we have an hour to shower and whatever?”

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, sure. We need to know what to put on the Wakandan marriage certificate, though.”

“Nine months ago.” Bucky’s voice was right behind her. She turned to see him looking at Steve over her shoulder.

“Any particular day?” Steve asked.

Darcy looked up at Bucky, but he didn’t seem to have an answer. “You choose,” she told Steve. Sometime in October.”

“Okay. Flight deck outside in an hour,” Steve said, his gaze shifting to Bucky. “Okay?”

“Yeah, punk. Okay,” Bucky replied.

* * *

**[July 9, 2018, 7:28am]**

They were somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, but Bucky looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than sitting there next to her while Natasha gave Darcy tips on deception and undercover work. In fact, he’d been vacillating between looking stoic and sick to his stomach since Shuri had forced a handshake and shoulder bump out of him before he’d stepped onto the jet to return to America. Darcy wished she could help him, but she had her hands full with Natasha.

“Lying requires an extra layer of thinking. You have to consider what the lie is and how you are going to relay it. It can slow you down, so you try to compensate. You start talking fast, throwing out too much information, lots of hand gestures or looking at the floor,” Natasha said, looking Darcy in the eyes. “These are bad things to do. Anyone looking for deception will see through you.”

Darcy said, “But what if I always use hand gestures?”

“Be consistent. Don’t use them and then stop when you’re lying or vice versa.”

She nodded at the woman. “Okay. Okay. Consistent. Yep.” It wasn’t until Natasha had started imparting wisdom that Darcy began feeling overwhelmed by what she was going to try to pull off. His life and definitely his freedom were in jeopardy if she didn’t make this look real. She knew she couldn’t depend on him to pull his weight because he was dealing with too much other shit in his head. So, the burden of making the marriage seem real was on her.

“Don’t overthink your lie. If you do, you’ll second guess and get flustered. You have to commit to it and reduce or eliminate that pause before the lie comes.”

“Commit like an actor or something?” Darcy asked.

Natasha nodded. “Exactly. Like a method actor. You’re his wife. You love him. You’d do anything for him. No question. Don’t oversell it. Don’t scramble for their acceptance. You should be confused, irritated, annoyed that anyone would think you aren’t head over heels for this man. You don’t owe them a damn thing.”

Darcy exhaled and said, “Okay. Got it.”

“Say it.”

She widened her eyes. “Say what?”

“Say you love him.”

Darcy’s stomach folded over on itself. “Ummm…”

“There’s that loop, that pause as you prepare the lie. Eliminate it. They’ll see through you if you don’t.”

“Well, like, we went over this before,” Darcy said, referring to her phone conferences with Nat during those two weeks after Bucky had agreed to the ruse. “And I get it, but it’s a little different when he’s sitting right next to me and you already know the situation. There’s no one here to trick.”

“Trick me. Make me believe it,” Nat said, a challenge in her voice. “He’s going to be there when you have to sell it, Darcy. You spent the night with him last night. What happened?”

Darcy narrowed her eyes at Nat. “We decided on our story, our history.”

“_Lie_,” Nat replied. “What happened?”

Darcy exhaled a breathy laugh, feeling self-conscious and silly. “I… Fuck, I don’t… This is harder than I thought.”

“You have to be able to—”

“Stop.” They both looked over at Bucky when he interrupted Nat. He was seated on the bench next to Darcy. “Don’t force her to do anything she’s not comfortable doing.”

Nat’s expression was pinched and frustrated. Darcy could see it and knew that she needed to do what Nat was telling her to do or this little lie was going to crash and burn. When it did, it was going to end up with Bucky in a locked cell on the Raft.

“It’s okay,” Darcy told him. “I’m okay. I need to do this.”

“You shouldn’t have to, sweetheart,” he whispered, the words meant just for her.

Darcy gave him a smile that she hoped conveyed her thanks for his understanding and her apology for what she was about to say. “I had dessert on the terrace and then he had dessert in our bedroom.” Darcy nodded her head toward Bucky, but never took her eyes off Nat.

“Dessert? What does that mean?” Nat asked, her gaze steady.

“You know what that means.”

“Was he any good?” Nat asked.

Darcy smiled, but it wasn’t a happy expression. She was pissed off at Nat for pushing, for degrading Bucky like that. “Didn’t you hear me screaming?” She sat forward, adding, “And you can stop thinking about my _husband_ like that.”

“Oh?” Nat asked, raising her brows. “You made it sound like it was just physical.”

“Well, it’s not.”

Nat didn’t respond, her face devoid of any clue on where to go from there.

“Fuck,” Darcy muttered. “I fucked up,” she told the other woman.

“Don’t sensationalize it,” Nat said. “He’s your husband. You married him; you aren’t just fucking him for fun.”

“Right.”

“Say it,” Nat prompted.

Bucky shifted in his seat, bending over and looking down at the floor between his boots. “This isn’t the time,” he said softly.

“It is and you know it, Barnes. If she can’t say it now, then she’s going to pause when she needs to say it in front of someone who matters. And when she pauses they’re going to see the chink in the armor and that’ll be the beginning of the end.”

“Maybe we aren’t like that. Maybe we don’t say it.” His voice was tired; he looked exhausted, maybe because he hadn’t slept in a day or more. Maybe because he was under intense stress. She couldn’t imagine the amount of anxiety rolling around in his head.

“You’re married,” Nat said, voice flat and disappointed. “You both need to be able to say it. I know you can when you have to, but I’m not sure about her.”

“You know I can?” he snapped, looking up at Nat.

She shrugged. “You’re trained. You worked as an assassin; I know you can lie. Those skills don’t just go away because they cleared those triggers out of your head.”

“Fuck you,” he muttered. Bucky was almost folded in half with his face between his knees. Darcy had promised to be his buffer and now she was caving under the pressure. She just hadn’t expected to need to protect him from their own people before they even landed.

Nat shook her head in disgust. “Obviously, neither of you are taking this seriously enough. You can’t expect to—”

The adrenaline and the anger over the way Nat was going after Bucky made her finally speak up. “Stop it,” Darcy told her. “Just stop. You want the fucking papers? Steve has them. We’re married. He’s my _husband_. Here’s my ring.” She held up her right hand to Nat. “So don’t you dare attack him like that.”

“Marriage of convenience?” Nat asked.

“I’d never agree to that. We’re in love and you can take all your questions and shove them up your ass,” Darcy snapped. She pulled in a shaky breath, trying to will away the burning on her cheeks as the flush crept over her face toward her ears and down her neck.

Nat smiled, but this time it was genuine. “Good. Keep that attitude. Be consistent. You love him and how dare they question or insinuate any different.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, nodding. She glanced over at Bucky. “Sorry,”

He was pale, chest rising up and down with breaths that seemed a little too rapid.

“You okay?” she asked.

He nodded. “I’m okay.”

“Sorry I… sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Nat stood up. Looking down at both of them she said, “You both need to act as if you’re married more often than not. If you don’t, then when you need to do so for the lie, you’ll have that time delay as you figure it out.”

“We’ll get better. We barely know each other,” Darcy told her.

Nat raised one brow in question. “Get to know each other and do it fast.” With that said, she walked back toward the cockpit of the jet where Sam was manning the controls and Steve was trying to act slick like he wasn’t listening to the conversation in the back.

“Does it bother you that Steve acts like your meddling mother?” she asked Bucky, trying to change the subject to avoid further embarrassment.

Bucky smiled and sat back on the bench, resting his shoulders against the wall. “Sometimes,” he admitted.

“Do you have super hearing, too?”

“I do. Why?”

Darcy nodded. “Just curious. What if I were to complain about your terrible cooking under my breath when I’m trying to spare your feelings to your face?”

“Oh, you can complain about my cooking to my face. I don’t know how to prepare food.”

She looked over at him and tried not to think about those things she’d just said about him eating her out the previous night or that she loved him. They were both lies, but she could only be so lucky to experience the first. Or the second, she added as she glanced down at the floor. “I’ll teach you,” she said.

“Is this part of our story? My… wife is teaching me how to—”

“It’s just reality. It can be part of the story or not.” Darcy scrunched up her nose. “I think Nat was trying to tell us that we need to stop separating the truth from the lies or we’re going to get tripped up.”

His only response was turning the ring around in circles with his left hand.

“I swear I’ll be better at this front of people who are gunning to lock you up. I swear you can trust me, Bucky.”

“I do, sweetheart. I do. You’re perfect.”

His soft affirmation made her stomach flutter. “Was that you or was that my husband?”

“One and the same, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” Darcy agreed. She was in some real trouble. How was she going to survive with him treating her like he cared _that much_? Her feelings about him were already complicated enough without that layer of mind fuck. “One and the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe we'll get Tony and Bucky in the same room tomorrow. Maybe Darcy and Bucky will hold hands. Maybe they'll find out that their apartment ONLY HAS ONE BEDROOM.


	8. Chapter 8

> _”I was too weak to give in, too strong to lose. My heart is under arrest again, but I break loose. My head is giving me life or death, but I can’t choose. I swear I’ll never give in. I refuse.” - Foo Fighters (Best of You)_

**[July 9, 2018, 9:44am]**

Steve refused to let anyone else exit the quinjet until he’d determined that they weren’t being deceived. Tony Stark’s presence seemed to go a long way toward convincing Steve that this charade wasn’t an elaborate trap. The media vans with satellites mounted on top of them were also encouraging. If the American government was going to doublecross a group of heroes who had the overwhelming support of the general public, they certainly wouldn’t do it with the media there to broadcast it.

“They look a little more comfortable than when they first started talking,” Darcy told Bucky as she watched from a small window on the side of the craft. “Steve doesn’t look like he’s going to punch anyone and Tony Stark just shook hands with him. Natasha is out there now, too.”

He’d found a large sweatshirt in Steve’s bag and pulled it over his head when he’d seen the cameras and people all over the large parking lot they’d been instructed to land on. The media and crush of people was just one level of his anxiety. He had to worry about General Ross keeping his word. He had to worry about being able to convince people that he and Darcy had known each other for over a year, that they’d married within three months of meeting, and that they were in love. And he had to worry about Tony Stark and the gulf of pain between the two of them.

“Bucky, you okay?” she asked, turning towards him. He’d been pacing back and forth in the small space.

“I just want it to be done,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bench along the wall, almost doubled over. He wished he could disappear. This was the hardest part. Or at least he hoped it would be. If he could get behind a closed door with just her, then he might be able to pull in a satisfying breath of air instead of these shallow gasps that didn’t even fill half his lungs.

Darcy sat beside him, leaving only a few inches of space between them. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I’ll do what I can to hurry this along. How do you feel about your wife having a big, fat attitude about these guys hassling her man?”

Bucky chuckled despite the creeping anxiety. “I feel pretty good about it,” he told her.

“Good. Because we aren’t posing for pictures on this wack red carpet and we aren’t listening to lectures from corrupt government officials. Let’s just… get through the next hour. Okay?”

Her confidence and composure under stress went a long way towards releasing some of the tension he’d been holding in his body. He’d only seen glimpses of this side of her during the painful conversation with Natasha, so it was a relief to see that she’d embraced the role. He’d been fighting his battles alone for so long that it felt good to lean on someone other than Steve. She was a firecracker when she wanted to be. He understood why Steve and Shuri liked her. He understood why Natasha and Sam thought she was capable of handling the situation. And yet, she was so kind to him it made him wonder how he was ever going to be worthy of that sweetness.

“Okay,” he told her. His answer was delayed because he couldn’t stop looking at the wedding band on her ring finger and the way she’d taken away all of the awkward feelings associated with his left arm and how the ring wouldn’t have worked on it. He didn’t even know her, but he knew she deserved better than the pressure cooker she was going to be shoved into with him. Was that hundred grand really worth it?

Bucky walked over to the exit ramp to survey the situation. He could see Steve’s and Natasha’s backs, but the media circus couldn’t see him at this angle. The only person out there who could see him was Tony Stark whose gaze moved from Natasha to look over Steve’s shoulder. Bucky felt the weight of the way Tony stared at him, into him.

He gave Tony a nod of his head. It was just a minuscule lowering of his chin to acknowledge the man even if he couldn’t apologize over the distance between them.

Tony nodded at whatever Natasha said, but his eyes didn’t move from Bucky. The reporters who were snapping pictures had caught on and were moving around to find an angle up the ramp so they could photograph or video whoever Tony Stark was intent on. Bucky took two quick steps back, almost stumbling. A hand in the center of his back helped him regain his balance.

“You okay?” Darcy asked. She’d already moved her hand, but he could still feel the heat of it branding his back, even through the grey sweatshirt and tank he was wearing beneath. How was he going to touch her during these mandatory visitations when she had that strong of an impact on him? How was he going to hold her hand or kiss her cheek? Because he couldn’t actually kiss her lips. That would be too far and too much.

Stark clapped Steve on the shoulder and moved around him toward the jet. Sam had moved to the ramp, hands on his hips while Steve followed Tony. Stark was coming for him. Was this going to be the end to the fight that started in Siberia? Bucky didn’t want to fight anymore. He exhaled and stepped back again. Her hand was there to support him.

“Bucky, are you okay?” she said, leaning around to look into his face.

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Stark,” Sam said with a nod, intercepting Tony.

“Wilson,” Tony replied. “Are you the bouncer here? Do I need to slip you a hundred to get invited to the party?”

“He doesn’t want to fight,” Sam said.

“Tony, don’t do this,” Steve said, stepping up behind Tony.

“Do what?” Tony asked.

Bucky couldn’t seem to pull in a satisfying breath. Actually, he hadn’t been able to since they’d been twenty minutes out from D.C., but now it was especially bad. He felt a tug that prompted him to look down at his right hand. Her hand was holding it. Their fingers were interlocked and their palms pressed together. Darcy squeezed his hand in a show of support. When he looked up at her face, she said, “It’ll be okay.”

“I killed his parents,” he told her. His own voice sounded so far away, and the only thing keeping him tethered to the moment was her hand. Tony was telling Steve something, but Bucky couldn’t concentrate on what was being said.

“I know,” she said.

Of course she knew. She’d been given all the dirty and painful details of his past. They’d laid it out for her to pick through, but she was too kind to bring it up in conversation, too nice to ask him to explain or justify or rationalize or apologize.

“Bucky,” she said, squeezing his hand again.

He squeezed back, keeping the pressure light because her hand was so small in his, so delicate.

“I’m not here to fight, Rogers.” Tony sounded annoyed. “Move.”

Steve, being the self-sacrificing idiot he was, had positioned himself between Bucky and Tony Stark. Apparently, Steve had also had a bad influence on Sam Wilson over the past two years because Sam was right there between them as well.

“Steve,” Bucky said. His voice was pitched low, but it carried.

Natasha raised the ramp to the quinjet just enough so the media gathered outside couldn’t get a clear shot of Tony and Steve facing off. The action caused a commotion on the landing pad as voices were raised and questions were shouted.

“Barnes,” Tony said, craning his head to look around Steve’s wide shoulders.

“Move, Stevie,” Bucky told his friend. “I ain’t going to fight him.”

“I know that,” Steve said, his eyes still on Tony.

Tony looked tired, despite the nonchalant look he liked to affect. He had on a tailored three-piece suit and a massive watch on his right wrist. Bucky had no doubt there was armor contained within it or maybe even elsewhere. Tony Stark had not come unarmed, but he hadn’t come for a fight either. There was a familiar look in his eyes that Bucky recognized from those moments he mustered up the will to look in a mirror. Tony had seen a little bit too much of the dark side of humanity. He’d seen guns and blood and callous indifference. His shoulders looked burdened with the weight of expectation and failure and the inevitable guilt that followed. It was painfully familiar; Tony just hid it behind nice clothes and expensive sunglasses and a cavalier attitude.

“He didn’t come here to fight, either,” Bucky told Steve and Sam.

Tony raised his brows at Steve. “Listen to your buddy and unbunch your panties, Rogers.”

“We can’t jeopardize this because of a personal vendetta—”

“Steve, just stop,” Bucky said, cutting his friend off.

Natasha cleared her throat. “We need to move this along, boys. There are cameras outside and Ross is looking antsy.”

Steve turned to allow Stark a clear shot at Bucky. If Bucky had thought Stark would take it, he would have pushed Darcy away from him, but he could see Tony didn’t want to fight any more than he did.

“I’m sorry, Stark,” Bucky said, looking Tony in the eyes and trying to will his sincerity into something tangible and real.

“New arm looks better than the old one,” Tony replied, ignoring the apology. “You’re welcome for ripping the old one off.”

Bucky exhaled an amused breath at Stark’s reference to the fight in Siberia in which he’d torn Bucky’s arm off at the shoulder. Instead of reminiscing about that low point in his life, Bucky said, “I’m here to help. I can’t make it right, but I’d like to try.”

“Your contract says you can’t be compelled to fight with us,” Tony said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t.” When Tony just stared back at him, Bucky said, “Did Shuri give you her records? She says I’m clean, that even if HYDRA is still out there that they can’t—”

“Oh, it’s still out there. Didn’t your pal Steve tell you? They have brand new weapons now. You’re last year’s model.” Tony’s voice was sharp and his words cut right through Bucky, yet his eyes were weary.

Bucky looked at Steve, who was focused on the ground.

“What weapons?” he asked Stark.

“A suit similar to mine. Not as good, of course,” Tony replied. “They have four of them, though. Tested them out three months ago at Fort Bliss. Those kids training there didn’t stand a chance, even with my state of the art missiles they stockpiled before Stark Industries cut off production.”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. He looked over at Steve and Sam. Sam’s face was pinched, a mixture of pain and anger. Steve’s face was, at first glance, devoid of emotion as he stared at the wall. Bucky knew Steve well enough not to be fooled. He was pissed and filled with guilt. The set of his jaw and the thin line of his lips spoke volumes.

“I was late to the party. Eight hundred forty-seven people died. Seventy-six of them were civilians working at the base in an admin building HYDRA decided to try their blasters out on.”

Bucky took a step back. His heel hit the bench behind him and tipped backward, sitting down heavily. Darcy released his hand and said his name, but he couldn’t seem to hear her.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t know how to tell you,” Steve said.

Sam grimaced and continued with, “They’ve hit other smaller targets since then. Some military, some civilian. Most are isolated so they can get in and get out before any of us can arrive. It’s part of the reason Ross is willing to offer a deal to us. They need our help if HYDRA has this type of weaponry. It’s also part of the reason he was so reluctant to include you in the deal, considering your… history with HYDRA.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Tony shook his head and turned his back on Bucky and the rest of them. “Wow. _Wow_,” he said. “Capsicle didn’t tell you any of that, did he?”

“No,” Bucky replied, looking at Tony’s back and the stiff set of his shoulders.

“Buck, I didn’t want this influencing your decision. HYDRA isn’t your problem. I know how you can get about—”

“They _are_ my problem,” Bucky snapped at Steve. “They’ve been my problem for over seventy fucking years, punk.” His disbelief and numbness were wearing off and morphing into queasy anger.

Sam held out a hand as if to tell everyone to calm down. “He’s just saying HYDRA is _our_ problem.” Gesturing at everyone in the small bay of the quinjet, Sam said, “Everyone here is involved. Everyone here wants to take them out. Not just you, Barnes.”

“It’s personal,” Bucky said.

“You think it isn’t for me?” Steve said, taking a step forward, his voice strained and quivering with anger. “You think all of this isn’t personal to me?”

“They didn’t keep you in a fucking cryo tank and pull you out for—”

“Okay,” Nat said, shutting the ramp the rest of the way to prevent the mics outside from picking up their raised voices. “Let’s just… calm down. We’re all on the same team.”

Three loud thumps against the side of the jet vibrated through the hollow body of the aircraft. “We need to deal with Ross,” Sam told Steve. “This has to wait.”

Nat turned her back to them and pulled out a cell phone from her pocket. She made a call in a hushed voice as the rest of them looked at one another. “You can’t stop me from fighting,” he told Steve.

“I know that, Buck. I’m not telling you that. I just didn’t want you to agree to do this because of the attack on Fort Bliss or any of the other places”

“You should have told me.”

Steve ran a hand roughly through his hair. “I know. I know I should have, but… you can’t build your life around them anymore. You can’t… you can’t just react to what they—”

Bucky leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling when he interrupted Steve with, “I’ll never be able to live unless they’re gone.”

“I know,” Steve replied, his voice soft, placating.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Soooo,” Tony said, dragging the word out. When Bucky leveled his gaze back on Stark, the other man was standing only a few feet away with his hands in the pockets of his tailored trousers.

Bucky’s heart sank. How was he going to fight HYDRA if one of the people he was fighting alongside didn’t trust him? “So,” he replied to Stark, unsure what else to say to bridge the canyon between them.

“Wrap it up,” Nat said. “They’re getting nervous. Ross thinks you’re trying to abduct Tony.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tony said, walking over and punching the button that opened the loading bay ramp. He walked down it halfway as the ramp lowered itself and yelled, “They’re camera shy after all these years. Give me a minute to convince them to have their pictures taken.”

He left the ramp down but walked back over to where Bucky was sitting. “Look, Barnes, I don’t know you so I don’t trust you. _Yet_.”

“Yet?” Bucky asked.

“Yet,” Tony repeated. “You turn on us, I’ll take you out myself.”

Sam spoke up and said, “You have Shuri’s files. She’s confident—”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Tony said, cutting the other man off. “Truce?” He directed the question at Bucky, brows raised.

“I never wanted to kill you,” Bucky insisted. “Not even in Siberia. I was fighting for my life.”

Tony’s gaze slid off to the side, barely moving his head as he nodded. “I know that,” he told Bucky.

“You don’t have to trust me, but I do want to help. I _need_ to help.”

“Thought you were hiding because you didn’t want to fight anymore,” Tony said, lifting his chin up and looking down at Bucky with assessing eyes.

Bucky shook his head. “I was fooling myself. There’s always going to be a fight, and I can’t sit ‘em out.”

“Yes, you can, Bucky. You’ve been through enough.” It was Steve. Always Steve trying to look out for him. Always Steve expecting more from himself than from anyone else in his life.

“Don’t try to protect me, Steve,” he told his oldest friend, the man that was more like a brother.

Steve sighed and dropped his head, hands on his waist. “I ain’t telling you not to fight. I’m just telling you that this isn’t just _your_ fight.”

“I know that.”

Nat stepped up to join the circle of discussion. “We all know,” she said. “They’ve hurt all of us. So, let’s agree that we’d all like to take them out and move on. Ross is going to send in the calvary if we don’t step outside.”

“Bossy as ever, I see,” Tony told her.

She gave him a sugary-sweet smile. “I love you, too, Tony.”

Bucky looked over at Darcy, who had been silent during the tense exchange. Her eyes were wide and her left hand was holding his right in a firm grip. When she noticed his attention on her, she looked up at him and gave him a tentative smile. “Hey,” she whispered.

“You can back out, sweetheart. You don’t have to do this,” he said. Maybe it would be better. She could back out. He’d take the jet and flee. He could go underground and use old contacts to find the HYDRA base that had Tony’s tech. He’s probably die taking them out or disrupting their operation, but that’d be a fitting end to his life. Poetic, even.

“No, I’m okay.”

He searched her eyes for reluctance or hesitation, but there was none. She was all in, and that knowledge made him uncomfortable because now she was his responsibility. And he had some very powerful enemies.

“I think you should reconsider,” he said. “HYDRA is dangerous and if they are still—”

“You’re wasting your breath,” she told him before he could finish his sentence. The others were standing by the ramp, ready to descend into the mess of media and politics. “Put the hood of the sweatshirt up and your left hand in your pocket,” Darcy said.

Bucky did as she said and stood up, pulling her off the bench with him. Holding her hand wasn’t so bad. It actually grounded him, kept him present, when everything around him was shifting and falling apart.

“Keep your head down and they won’t be able to get a good picture of you,” she told him, flipping up the hood of her own sweatshirt.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, looking down at the ground as they approached the ramp and the press of raised voices mixed with the snap of cameras.

* * *

**[July 9, 2018, 11:57am]**

“This is payback for us making Ross look like an idiot when we landed,” Sam said, leaning back in the high-backed leather chair, an ankle crossed over his knee.

Bucky tapped his foot on the ground, anxiety making his brain buzz. Getting through the cameras and screaming reporters after they’d exited the quinjet had felt like running a gauntlet. He credited Darcy’s hand in his and her calming presence as the only reason he was able to make it across the asphalt parking lot and into the vehicle. They were whisked away inside two unmarked black SUVs with General Ross and two of his aides and taken to a nondescript office building with heavy security. A very nervous aide had shown them upstairs to a conference room with a massive table and floor to ceiling windows that boasted a view of the Potomac River.

Steve was running through scenarios in his head; Bucky knew him well enough to see his friend calculating the odds of an attack and how they could escape or fight back. Even now, people underestimated Steve Rogers and his tactician's mind. Sam was watchful, too. Eyes on the two doors, appearing to be relaxed when really he was ready to spring into action. Natasha was a locked box, none of her emotions or thoughts playing out on her face. He knew, though, that she had a contingency plan if things were to go south.

Wanda and Vision had arrived shortly after they’d settled into their chairs. They greeted everyone warmly but had kept to themselves after sitting down. Steve had said they were together. If it hadn’t made him feel like such a creep, Bucky would have spent more time wondering how that worked. But, it wasn’t his business and he was too wrapped up in his own anxiety to worry about the mechanics of romancing what seemed to be an android with a personality. He’d chalked it up to things he’d never know and decided to just be glad for them. They seemed happy, at least.

Tony Stark was sitting across from Bucky. He was fidgeting and looking around the room, though he didn’t seem all that concerned or worried. The lack of concern probably had as much to do with his personality as it had to do with the fact that Tony was the only one in the room who wasn’t under threat of the Raft. Well, Tony and Darcy. Darcy was sitting in a chair beside him and looking like she felt out of her depth. He wanted to reach out and make her feel better, but it was taking all his will power to keep himself in the seat.

“Hey,” she whispered. He looked down to see her hand resting on the thigh of his bouncing leg. “One more hour.”

This was the third time she’d asked him to get through an hour. Bucky’s anxiety ratcheted up with each minute that passed. She meant well, and she had no control over the situation, so Bucky couldn’t be upset with her even though one hour had turned into two and was going on three. Her left hand was warm through the fabric of his pants. Normally, he would have recoiled at a touch that intimate, but there was something about the way she did it that felt safe. Maybe it was because she was a touchy person. He could see it in the way she moved and interacted with everyone else. Touching was easy for her, second nature, even. It was part of her communication.

Bucky gave her a tight smile that probably looked more like some manic grimace, but he didn’t move his leg or ask her to lift her hand. In fact, he almost protested when she pulled back and turned her chair to stand up. “Be right back,” she said, leaning down to whisper it in his ear.

“Where are you going?” he whispered back. Had she changed her mind? Was she leaving him?

“Not far. Give me five or ten.” With that said, she walked across the room and slipped out the door they’d entered in.

Bucky looked over at Steve who was two seats down from Tony. Steve just shrugged. Closing his eyes, Bucky shut out the sound of breathing and tried to focus on the door. Darcy had left it cracked just the slightest bit and her faint voice could be heard down the hallway.

“They aren’t busy; they’re stalling. We’re here at General Ross’s request. He rode over with us, so I know he’s here.” Darcy sounded annoyed.

“Ma’am, they are putting the final touches on the paperwork,” a man told her, his tone placating and gentle.

“The paperwork has been done for weeks. We have copies of it. If they’re actually putting the final touches on the paperwork, then I’m going to have to tell everyone in there not to sign it because it’s obviously been changed. In fact, why don’t you have them send me those final copies, Adam? Is that your name? Adam?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Send me the final copies so we can run them against what was sent before. They’ll sign electronically.”

“I don’t think—”

“Right,” she snapped. “Your job isn’t to _think_, Adam. Send me the contracts and tell General Ross that he can stop hiding in his office to get the upper hand back. It’s childish.”

“I— I can’t tell him that,” the man said, stammering.

Bucky heard the slap of footsteps on the marble floor and then three heavy thumps that sounded like the heel of someone’s hand against a wooden door. Opening his eyes, he locked gazes with Steve. Steve stared back at Bucky, wide-eyed as he listened to Darcy reading the riot act.

“I know you’re in there, General. They’re all here just like you asked. The situation on the landing pad had nothing to do with you or your offer. They just needed a minute to catch their breaths and talk, so you can stop sulking in your office like a child and get the show on the road.”

Bucky heard the sound of a door abruptly open. “Did you call me a _child_?”

Steve cringed. It was Ross.

“If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck. Look, it’s been a long day. I’ve got jet lag. I want to go take a look at my new home and go to bed. Get off your drama shit and send the contracts over.”

“You’re not signing a contract, so you’re free to go get your rest,” Ross told her.

“Not without my husband, I’m not. He’s the only reason I’m here, and I’m not leaving without him. So, move your ass.”

Bucky exhaled a sharp breath of disbelief when he heard her footsteps, rapid and conveying almost as much irritation and sass as her voice had, coming back down the hall. Steve raised his brows at Bucky, pulling a face that spoke of embarrassment and amusement.

Darcy slipped back through the door but left it open behind her. She detoured to the sidebar where there were bottles of water and juice chilling in a bowl of ice. Plucking out two bottles of water, she brought them back over to the table. “They should be ready soon,” she told Bucky when she dropped into her seat and sat one of the bottles on a coaster in front of him.

“Did you just... “ He trailed off, unsure how to phrase the question.

Darcy pulled out her phone and said, “I have the updated contracts. Can we scan them and compare to the ones you’ve already seen?”

“Send them my way. I’ll have Friday take care of it,” Tony told her.

Darcy looked at him and Tony looked right back. She raised her brows.

“Hi, I’m Tony. Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself earlier. You’re Darcy, obviously. Steve told me all about you.” Bucky waited for Tony to reveal that he was the one footing the bulk of Darcy’s salary over the next year, but he didn’t. The room might be wired for sound and that would blow their cover right away.

“I know who you are,” Darcy assured him.

“So, are you going to send me the contracts?” Tony asked, enunciating each word.

“So, are you going to give me your email?” she shot back.

Tony looked mollified. “Oh. Right. No email necessary.” He punched a button on his phone and laid it face down on the conference table. “Just send the files to the file sharer and put your phone on top of mine.”

Bucky watched her navigate the phone and transmit the contracts to Stark’s A.I. who ran a comparison for each individual expected to sign today. His phone displayed the discrepancies in holographic text right over the conference table. Bucky had been so enthralled with Darcy’s take-no-prisoners attitude out in the hallway with the poor aide and Ross that he’d forgotten to be anxious.

The differences between the contracts were minimal and not material to the matters at hand. Just as they were reviewing Vision’s contract, Ross walked in with the aide and three men in expensive suits. They looked like high-priced attorneys. When Ross started talking, he confirmed that.

Darcy’s hand was on his thigh again. He glanced over at her, and she smiled. “One more hour,” she mouthed before winking at him. The wink made his stomach flip over, but not in an unpleasant way. He didn’t have time to linger on those feelings, though. Instead, he turned away and focused his attention on Ross and his team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all your wonderful people who have commented to let me know you're reading along as I post. I hope you continue to enjoy this sweet friendship between two people who just want to be okay and hope one day they might even be happy for a minute. Tomorrow we'll get to take a look at their new living space and listen to them bicker over who gets that one bed. (Hint: Bucky wins the argument, but only because he threatens to pick Darcy up and physically move her.)


	9. Chapter 9

> _”Too hot for shade, come lay down in the cool grass with me, baby. Let’s watch that summer fade. My love, this dream I have each night, I stare into a blinding light. Alone, I stare.” - The Afghan Whigs (Summer’s Kiss)_

**[July 9, 2018, 3:03pm]**

“So, you two are married, huh?”

Darcy looked into the rearview mirror where the eyes of their driver were reflected. Those eyes were on Bucky in the back, not the road. “Yep,” she told him with a forced smile.

They were sharing the backseat of a black SUV while the others were following in another vehicle. She was on edge because Bucky was on edge; the meeting with Ross and his men had taken far too long. The only saving grace was that her attitude about the delay hadn’t backfired. In fact, it had worked just as intended, shaming Ross into speeding things up instead of savoring his petty revenge by making everyone wait in a conference room on pins and needles.

She glanced over at Bucky. He was staring out the window, face devoid of emotion. She hadn’t known him long, but she’d picked up enough to know this wasn’t good. It was his way of shutting down because he was on overload. The muscles of his jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. The driver was still dividing his time between watching the road and watching Bucky. Maybe it was just curiosity over a legend or the vibranium arm, but Darcy could feel her paranoia kick into high gear as she considered whether they were being tested already. What if the driver was to report back about her interactions with Bucky? If he did, no one would think they were newlyweds because Bucky was in his own world and she was not invited.

“Hey, babe,” she whispered, putting a hand on his thigh.

He jerked his head to look at her, eyes widened in shock.

Darcy turned her head towards him, letting her hair fall like a curtain to hide her face from the driver. She raised her brows at Bucky and shifted her eyes in the driver’s direction. “You okay?” she murmured.

He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. It’s just been a long day.” After a brief pause, he said, “You okay?”

“I will be when we get to our apartment. Looking forward to being alone with you.” She let her head fall to the side and rest on his right shoulder.

To Bucky’s credit, he didn’t flinch or lean away. He actually shifted to make her more comfortable by sliding his arm around her shoulders. She inhaled deeply, breathing in the smell of laundry detergent on the hoodie and something else she couldn’t place but liked nonetheless. “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

“How does amnesty feel?” Darcy shifted to settle in against his side as much as the seat belt around her would allow.

He chuckled, breath warm against her temple. “I don’t know. Weird. I feel like I’m in a dream right now, like this isn’t real.”

She glanced up as if she were looking out the windshield but checked out the rearview mirror again. The driver’s eyes were still alternating between the road and his view of the backseat. Darcy turned her face into the crook of Bucky’s shoulder and inhaled. “You smell good,” she whispered. “You always smell good, actually.”

His exhaled was shuddering, stop and start, maybe even a little ragged. She knew it was because he wasn’t accustomed to this kind of intimacy and maybe didn’t even like it, but the driver could easily take his reaction for anticipation and restraint. They’d been married less than a year, after all. And a good part of that year had been spent apart while Darcy traveled with Jane. As she thought about the reality and the lie, Darcy realized the wisdom in what Natasha had been saying. They needed to think of the lie as reality. It wasn’t just a story on a page or a phone screen; it was what had happened between her and Bucky, even if it was only in her head.

Darcy thought about what it might be like to actually be married to the man next to her and how it would feel to travel with Jane and leave him for weeks at a time. She also thought of how it might feel to see him again, to just sit beside him and touch him. “I missed you,” she whispered, squeezing his knee in her hand.

When she looked up at him, his jaw flexed and the muscles of his neck contracted as he swallowed. Bucky tilted his head down to look at her upturned face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were like dark pools with emotions she couldn’t name in their depths. “Missed you more,” he whispered back before pressing a quick kiss on her forehead, right at the hairline.

The brush of his lips gave her goosebumps up and down her arms. She knew he had good hearing and wondered if he was listening to the way her heartbeat kicked up in response to his kiss. It was a little embarrassing to think he might be able to hear that sort of thing and know her body didn’t think this was all just an act.

* * *

**[July 9, 2018, 3:48pm]**

She kept her hands to herself once they had exited the vehicle and boarded the quinjet. Everyone in the jet knew the situation, so there was no one like the pervy driver to pretend for. She’d remained by Bucky’s side, though, as they settled onto the bench seat they’d left a few hours before.

Once the door was closed and the craft lifted off the landing pad, she exhaled all that anxiety she’d been holding in and said, “I’m sorry,” to him.

He looked over at her, brows furrowed. “For what? You don’t have anything to feel—”

She cut him off by saying, “For the touchy-feely in the car. The driver was giving me the creeps. I was worried he’d been told to say something if we didn’t seem… Well, if we didn’t seem like we were… together.”

Bucky gave her a smile that was strained. “Don’t apologize for that. It was… fine. You did the right thing.”

“Do you think we… Do you think he believed us?”

He nodded. “Yeah. You did great, sweetheart.”

Steve was watching Bucky from his spot near the controls. She tried to ignore the fact that he could probably hear everything they were saying and asked Bucky, “Are you okay? I mean, really okay. Not the fake okay in the car.”

“I’m okay. I’ll be better when we see where we’ll be living.”

“You and me, both,” Darcy agreed. Steve turned to look out the windshield, but she knew he was still listening. She lifted her elbow, nudging Bucky’s side before lifting her chin up in Steve’s direction. Bucky nodded his acknowledgment that he knew his best friend had a tendency to eavesdrop. “So,” she murmured, “are you going to tell Steve that we’re the ones who replaced all his underwear with those American flag thongs?”

Steve’s head jerked up, but he resisted looking in their direction. “Nah,” Bucky told her, his voice pitched low and just for her ears. “We’ll let him go on thinking it was Natasha or Sam.”

“Very devious, Barnes. I like it. What are we going to do with his actual underwear?”

“Shuri said there is this place on the internet where you can sell things in an auction. What do you think we could get for them?” The corners of his mouth were curved up in a smile.

“Hmm,” she said, tapping an index finger against her lips. “Depends on whether they are clean or worn, probably.”

Bucky scrunched his nose up at her answer. “Doll, that’s terrible.”

“Hey, he’s got a fanbase. The ladies would pay top dollar to touch something that has caressed his junk.”

Bucky’s subtle smile broke into a full-fledged one as he laughed softly at her comment. Steve, on the other hand, seemed to choke on something before standing and hurrying over to the area where the luggage had been stored during the short flight to Manhattan.

“You know,” Darcy said, watching Steve maneuver a couple of bags around before he found his. “I bet ladies would pay top dollar for your undies, too.”

He sobered up quickly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. “I don’t know about that.”

They sat there and watched Steve digging through his bag. His shoulders slumped when he presumably found his underwear, untouched and normal. No stars and stripes printed on a thong.

“Looking for something there, Cap?” Darcy asked.

He zipped the bag up before glancing over his shoulder at her. “Very funny. I might regret putting you two together,” Steve said. She didn’t miss the little grin on his face before he turned away and walked back over to where Sam was piloting the jet with Nat.

“Did you love messing with him as a kid? He’s easy to wind up.”

Bucky’s smile was genuine and warm when he said, “Yeah, he _is_ easy to wind up.”

They sat there in silence for a long moment before Darcy sighed and leaned her head back to rest it against the hull of the jet. “I’m ready for PJs and food and bed.”

“Thank you for doing this. Really, Darcy. I don’t know if I can make you understand how much—”

“No problem, dude. You don’t have to thank me. This is, like, the best job I’ve had in… ever.”

“It hasn’t even been a day. How do you know it isn’t downhill from here?”

“Just a feeling,” she told him.

They sat in companionable silence, side-by-side for the remainder of the flight. When the jet descended to a helipad on a rooftop, Darcy got up to look out the window. “Wow,” she told Bucky. “I missed New York. Look at it all.” Nat walked back to stand beside Darcy. “How far is our building?” she asked the woman.

“This _is_ our building. We’ve got the top three floors.”

“I should have been hanging out with you guys all this time. Traveling with Jane requires planes, trains, and automobiles. And sometimes a donkey to carry the equipment, like the time we had to hike to this crazy place in Chile.” When she looked over her shoulder at Bucky, he was gone. She found him retrieving their bags.

She had a large rolling suitcase as well as a weekender bag that held most of her essentials. Both were packed to the brim. Bucky and everyone else aboard, on the other hand, only had one bag each. Bucky’s was especially sparse. Apparently, being a superhero required one to have very few physical possessions. Darcy was never going to be a superhero because, despite the near-constant traveling, she still couldn’t seem to shed enough to eliminate one of the bags.

“I can carry that one,” she told him, holding out her hand for the duffle.

“It’s heavy,” he told her, adjusting the strap until it was looped over his left shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said, “I know. I’ve been lugging it around for a while. I can carry it.”

“I’ll carry it,” Bucky insisted, picking up his bag and her massive rolling suitcase.

She walked behind him, as they exited the jet into the oppressive heat of a July afternoon in New York City. “It rolls, you know,” Darcy said.

“Yeah, I know,” he told her.

“So, are you just trying to show off your muscles or something?”

He cracked a smile. “Yeah, that’s it.”

“I am duly impressed.”

The group of them entered the building and parted ways. Steve, Sam, and Nat took the stairs down to their apartments one floor below. Bucky and Darcy took the elevator two floors down with a temporary keycard in hand to allow them entrance until the biometric data could be loaded into the scanners.

“You okay?” she asked as they walked down the hall. He glanced back and nodded before continuing to their door. It was at the end of the hallway near the door to the stairwell. It appeared to be a corner unit, which made Darcy hopeful it would have two bedrooms so they didn’t have to have an awkward conversation.

She opened the door and stepped inside. Bucky followed behind her and sat their bags against the wall in the tiled foyer. The lights were off, but the sunlight from outside lit the space up just fine. She made her way down a short hallway, passing a bathroom before she could take in the view from the living room. The windows were tall and the view was quintessential New York City—buildings upon buildings with rivers of traffic separating them. She stepped around the beige sofa, oversized armchairs, and low coffee table to take in the city.

“Wow,” she told him. “It’s gorgeous.” When she turned around, he was nowhere to be seen. “Bucky?”

Backtracking, she found him in the bathroom with a small device, scanning the walls, opening the medicine cabinet and the doors underneath the vanity, even opening the frosted glass door of the shower and stepping inside the stall with his shoes on.

“What are you—”

Before she could get her question out, he’d turned and pressed his right hand firmly over her mouth. He backed her up against the wall by the door, and Darcy’s heartbeat went from normal to jackhammering in a fraction of a second. They were alone for the first time outside Wakanda and he seemed to have lost his mind. Bucky placed his vibranium index finger over his lips before he removed his hand from her mouth. She stood there and watched him as he finished a sweep of the bathroom, even going so far as to remove the lid from the toilet tank. The bathroom was unusually large for the city, boasting a double sink on the white marble vanity, a toilet tucked away in the corner, and an oversized walk-in shower with spotless brushed chrome fixtures.

Once he was satisfied, he moved closer to her. She held her breath as he ducked his head down. “We need to check for recording devices or cameras.”

“But this is Tony’s building. He already knows—”

Bucky pressed an index finger to his lips again, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. Too many people have been in and out of here—contractors, decorators, cleaning services.”

“Oh,” she whispered back. “I— Okay, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“Don’t say anything until I’ve swept.”

Darcy nodded her agreement and followed him down the hall as he used what looked like one of those old Nokia phones to scan for electronic devices in the walls and light fixtures. He spent several minutes in the kitchen. It was separated from the living area by a tall breakfast bar. The space reminded her of a galley in a ship, narrow with tons of counter space. The appliances were all stainless steel, the counters were marble, and the cabinets were a deep, rich wood that contrasted nicely. It was one of the most beautiful kitchens she’d ever seen and she was already looking forward to cooking in it. Bucky was too intent on searching out electronics to appreciate anything.

After opening every cabinet and even giving the fridge and freezer a once-over, he moved on to the living room. Darcy wanted to help, but she had no idea how to search for a bug. In all the movies, they were in light fixtures, and with the vaulted ceilings, those were out of her reach. Bucky was thorough in his search. While she waited for him to finish, Darcy wandered through the only other door in the apartment and found the bedroom. It wasn’t until that moment that it dawned on her. There was _only one bedroom_. She turned around and opened her mouth, but Bucky was searching behind the painting on the far wall of the living room.

Darcy could see the moment he realized what she’d just discovered when he turned around and saw her in the doorway to the bedroom looking like an idiot. Instead of commenting on it, he put his head down and slipped past her to search the room. It had large windows that gave them a view of the river between two taller buildings a couple of blocks away. The bed was a king with a pristine white duvet and at least half a dozen pillows in shades of blue piled up against the tufted headboard.

She stood by the window where there were two armchairs and a small table, watching him as he searched the nightstands that flanked the bed, a tall wardrobe by the door, and the walk-in closet that was empty. Feeling like she needed to do something, Darcy dragged one of the chairs over to the television and stood on the seat so she could run the tips of her fingers along the edges of the flatscreen.

“You’re going to fall,” he said, his voice cutting through the thick silence that had descended since he’d begun his search.

“I’m fine,” Darcy insisted.

“It’s clear,” he told her.

She leaned closer to the television and swept a hand over the back. Darcy hadn’t gotten very far when she felt an arm wrap around her thighs. She froze for a moment and then turned around. He pulled her against his body and lifted her off the chair. Instinctively, Darcy grabbed his shoulders. The heat of his body was short-lived, though. As soon as he’d picked her up, he let her slide down to stand on her own and released his hold.

“It’s clear,” he repeated.

Darcy looked around. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We’re alone. No bugs.” He powered off the device and pocketed it.

“Where’d you get the fancy doodad?”

“Shuri,” he told her.

Darcy turned around and took in the big bed. “You take the bedroom,” she told him.

“No,” Bucky told her. “You take the bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

“Uh, _no_,” she said. “You need some privacy. I mean, I’ve been sharing a room with Jane more often than not, so I’m used to sharing. You’ve been living on your own for years. I think you need it more than I do.”

He put his hands on his hips. “I ain’t arguing with you, sweetheart. You’re taking the bedroom.” The stance accentuated the width of his shoulders and how narrow his waist was.

Before she could reply, he’d left the room. She followed him out into the living area to find that he’d retrieved her bags and was carrying them into the bedroom. Darcy stood in the doorway, blocking his path. “I’m serious, Bucky. The bedroom is yours.”

“You want me to pick you up and move you again?” he asked.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Finally, she said, “Uh, maybe.”

He exhaled a short, breathy laugh. “Move so I can put your things in there. I’m not taking the bed from you.”

“Bucky, come on. Take the fucking bed.”

He looked down at her and said, “Not a chance.” Darcy knew it wasn’t an argument she was going to win at that moment.

“Stubborn,” she accused. “I bet you’d sleep on the floor before you’d sleep in the bed.”

“You’re probably right. I’ve slept on floors before,” he said, settling her luggage on the bed.

“Maybe I’ll sleep on the floor in the living room just to prove I can be as stubborn as you,” she told him as she leaned against the doorframe.

He shook his head and moved to slip past her. Darcy relented in their game of chicken, shifting to let him through. If she hadn’t, she wondered if he’d have picked her up and moved her just like he’d said. Carrying the bags had been impressive, but she hadn’t realized exactly how strong he was until he’d lifted her off that chair like she weighed nothing.

“Take the fucking bed.”

“No,” he told her as he walked away. “And I’m too tired to argue about it.”

“Sucks to be you since I’m never too tired to argue.” She followed him into the living room to find him standing by the windows. They had amazing views in two directions since the living room sat at one of the corners of the building. “Bucky,” she said, urging him to turn around and finish their conversation about sleeping arrangements.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and looked over his shoulder. “Please, sweetheart. Please don’t argue with me about this.”

The weariness in his eyes deflated any urge she had to strong-arm him into sleeping arrangements. “Fine,” Darcy told him. “We’ll talk about it another day.”

She stood there and looked at the way he held himself. His back was stiff as if he was tense even though he’d had a long day and was probably exhausted from not sleeping the night before. Darcy toed off her shoes and sat in one of the oversized armchairs, curling her legs up beneath her. He was still in Steve’s hoodie and the brown pants from Wakanda that had seen better days. Comforting him was at the forefront of her mind, but Darcy wasn’t sure how to go about it. He swung from being open and easy to talk with to closed off and difficult to reach within the space of a few seconds.

What would make him feel better? She had no clue. This was her first reformed assassin who had grown up in the same time as her great, great grandparents. There was no manual for how to care for Bucky Barnes. “Hey, I’m gonna go out and grab dinner for us since we haven’t had anything since breakfast. What size are you?”

Bucky turned around. “What?”

“Size. Like pants size, shirt size. I think Macy’s isn’t far, and I have a credit card.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, actually. But you probably will be a lot better if you take a long hot shower while I go find you something to wear.”

He hung his head. “Darcy…”

“Hey, I caved in on the bed. I’m not giving this one up. I’m winning this argument, buddy.”

When he looked up at her, there was a subtle grin curving the corners of his mouth up. “I should have known you’d be bossy if Steve liked you.”

Darcy raised her brows. “Oh, yeah? Tell me more.”

He walked over to the chair next to her and dropped down into it. “Nothing to tell. He likes bossy dames.”

“Interesting,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes. “I would have never thought that. I take it you don’t like bossy dames.”

He dropped his gaze as he picked a few pieces of lint off the hoodie. “I never said that.”

“Even more interesting,” Darcy told him. “In light of this revelation, I’m ordering you to go take a shower and a nap while I go find you some boxer briefs and pants that don’t make you look like a farmer.”

His eyes were on her as she stood, but he didn’t protest.

“Is there any food you hate? Anything you won’t eat?”

“No.”

She slipped her shoes back on. “No? You’re easy to please _and_ you like bossy ladies. You’re my kinda guy.”

He chuckled and looked away, almost appearing bashful. It was a good look for such a hot guy since most men with his bone structure and body knew exactly what they were working with and weren’t afraid to use it.

“Okay, I’ve got an Amex Black Card from your buddy Steve, and I’m going to commit a cardinal sin.” She dug around in her bag until she found her purse. The card—her most prized possession at that moment—went in one pocket of her jeans. Her phone went in the other.

“What cardinal sin is that?”

“Shopping while you’re hungry. Plus, I haven’t been in the States for, like, over a year so I’m really looking forward to shitty American food. Sure you don’t have a special request?”

Bucky licked his lips, and she knew he wanted something but he was too shy to say. “No,” he told her.

Darcy jutted one of her hips out and rested her hands on them. “Tell me. I know you want something.

“I’m fine.”

“Give it up,” she said, smiling.

He laughed and let his gaze slide down to the floor. “A chocolate bar.”

“One fancy chocolate bar coming up.”

“A Hershey's Chocolate Bar.”

She pulled a face and said, “Uh, that’s not fancy.”

“I know, but… it’s been a long time. I remember them.”

She nodded. “Okay. Hershey’s it is. Who is your favorite wife?”

He shook his head, but she could see him fighting not to smile. “You are.”

“That’s probably because I’m your only wife.”

“You’re still my favorite,” Bucky assured her after her back was turned.

Darcy turned around and said, “We’ll see if that’s still true when I bring back a new wardrobe for you and you decide you hate everything I picked out.”

“Boxers,” he called to her as she made her way to the door.

“Boxer briefs. You’ll love them. They’ll show off your muscles. The ladies will swoon.”

She opened the door when he called out, “I don’t want the ladies to swoon.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shutting the door. When she could get him talking, he seemed to be able to crawl out of his funk. It was just a matter of coaxing him out of his own head, which wasn’t always easy. He tried, though. He tried hard, and that made a difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow? Steve and Bucky catch up. And Bucky and Darcy have dinner before Bucky's nightmares rear their ugly heads again.


	10. Chapter 10

> _”Why do you chew that pain? If you only knew how much I love you. Well, I won’t be your winter. I won’t be anyone’s excuse to cry.” - Sister Hazel (Your Winter)_

**[July 9, 2018, 6:49pm]**

He sat in the chair for an hour after she left. The afternoon sun descended to a horizon he couldn’t see from the windows in the living room. The brilliant light in the room softened, but not enough to merit turning on a lamp. He remained right where he was and spun the wedding band on his right finger around in circles, but left it firmly in place and secure. Sometimes he forgot it was even there, which was startling when less than twenty-four hours ago he’d wondered if he’d ever get used to it or her.

He wasn’t used to her, yet. She was kind and generous and bold and cheeky in all the best ways. She’d rolled with the punches during this never-ending day, and she’d done it with grace and a smile. He didn’t know how to thank her. He had nothing to give her and words seemed like a pathetic thanks when he weighed them against what she’d given him and what she continued to do to help him. She was out there in the world, even now, running on a couple of hours of sleep, so she could buy him clothes and food.

Bucky wished he’d gone with her. No, he thought, correcting himself, I didn’t want to go; I just feel guilty for not going. What if she was hurt, attacked? This was New York City, after all. Bad things happened all the time—robberies and muggings and assaults. He’d vowed to keep her safe. He should have gone with her. What if the government had eyes on the building? What if they saw her leave and him stay? Would that arouse suspicion? Would they wonder what kind of man let his wife go out on her own to buy food when they’d just been reunited and moved in together? His decision to stay had been a mistake.

The feeling of unease set his mind to buzzing and propelled him out of the chair. He stood at the window and considered trying to find her. The city below him seemed massive and unending with cars and people parading by. He’d never locate her. He didn’t have any communication devices and he had no way of calling her phone since he’d never bothered to get her number. They’d done such preparation, but these little things had fallen through the cracks.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that the knock on the door made Bucky jerk back from the window. His steps were hurried as he made his way to the door and pulled it open, expecting to see Darcy. Steve was there in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt that was two sizes too small. The kid had never learned how to dress for his new size.

“Hey,” Steve said, nodding at Bucky.

Bucky stepped back, a silent invitation to enter the apartment.

“You and Darcy okay?” Steve asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied. “She… left.”

“Left?”

“Clothes and food. Said she had your black card.”

“Oh. Yeah. I told her that if you two needed anything to get settled in that she should use the card. She buying you clothes?” A hint of a smile was on Steve’s lips.

Bucky walked back into the living room and dropped down into the middle of the couch. “I didn’t even… I shouldn’t have let her go alone.”

“She’ll be okay, Buck. She’s a smart girl.”

He rubbed his face, digging forefinger and thumb into his eyes. “I know. I just… I don’t even know how to check on her or call her or… I never got her number.”

Steve pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Nat gave me this for you. It’s safe, untraceable. I think it’s from Tony, actually. He just won’t admit it.”

Bucky stared up at the device Steve was holding out. When he didn’t take it, Steve dropped it into his lap and walked over to sit down in the armchair Darcy had occupied a couple of hours earlier.

“Call her,” Steve suggested, nodding at the phone.

Tentatively, Bucky picked up the phone and touched the contacts icon. There was a list of numbers. He scrolled through to the bottom. Clint, Darcy, Natasha, Rhodey, Sam, Scott, Shuri, Steve, T’Challa, Tony, Wanda, Vision. Bucky’s eyes went back up to Tony’s name. “Stark’s on here.”

Steve shrugged. “Ask Nat. I mean… I don’t know, Buck. I didn’t think we could get to this point, not after Siberia. Honestly, I think it’s what happened at Fort Bliss. We were underground in South Africa when it happened. Didn’t find out until it was over. Tony didn’t… Tony and Rhodey got there as soon as they could, but the damage was done. Casualties were high and, according to Rhodey, the operatives almost took Tony out. I mean, it was three against one and they had his tech.”

“Does he have a leak in his circle? Is that how they’re getting the info?”

“I don’t think so.” Steve shifted to get comfortable. “They have outdated suits, not the nanotech he’s using nowadays. If it’s a leak, then it isn’t someone who is still with him. Still dangerous, though.”

“What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I think he’s just… I think we’re all just looking for as much help as we can get. When you see that kind of evil, it gives some perspective. You know? When he and I met for the first time before we’d agreed to sign these D.O.D. contracts… When we sat down and talked, he said he felt like they’d used him to kill all those people.”

Bucky’s looked up at the vaulted ceiling and sighed. It was a familiar feeling, one he’d been living with for many, many years.

“So,” Steve continued, “I think you and him have finally got some common ground.”

“It ain’t ground either of us want,” Bucky said.

“I know. But I think it helped him see what really happened. They used you against your will just like they used his inventions against his.”

Bucky looked down at Tony’s name again. “I don’t think that makes us friends.”

“But you’re not enemies, either. That’s something. That’s… progress. Right?”

He didn’t answer the question. Instead, he pressed his thumb to Shuri’s name. Before he could bring the phone to his ear, the screen flashed a message that said, “Video Call.” He looked up at Steve and opened his mouth to ask how to stop the video part of the call, but by the time he formed the question in his head, Shuri’s face was on the screen.

“Sergeant Barnes!” She squinted her eyes and said, “Hold the phone up. I can’t see you. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that it needs to be level or higher or you’ll make yourself look terrible?”

Bucky awkwardly lifted the phone from his lap to hold it a few inches from his face. “I didn’t mean to video call.”

“I’m glad you did. How did things go?”

“Okay.”

“How is your wife?”

Bucky felt his jaw muscles tighten. “Fine.”

“Ah, talkative as ever, I see.”

“Shuri, cut me a break,” he told her.

She flipped her braids over her shoulder. “You’ll get no breaks from me. I take it the American government has kept its word so far. My brother’s advisor on international affairs is sick of me asking him if there is news on your deal.”

Her concern warmed his heart. “Yes, they’ve kept their word. I’m in the… I’m in my new home. In New York City.”

“And I’ll be visiting… when?”

Bucky smiled. “According to Okoye, never.”

Shuri rolled her eyes. “Okoye doesn’t need to know everything. Where is Darcy?”

“Oh, no,” he told her. “You two aren’t making plans behind my back.”

She gave him an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Sergeant Barnes.”

“She’s running errands.”

“What kind of errands?”

Bucky didn’t respond immediately, but Shuri didn’t back down. Instead, she raised her brows in question. He finally relented by saying, “She decided I need new clothes and that we needed to eat.”

“Ahhh, how cute. Your wife is—”

“She’s not—” Bucky stopped himself.

Shuri just smiled. “She is, technically, you know.”

“You know what I mean,” he told her. “I’m going to hang up now.”

“Hang up?”

“Disconnect.”

“You use such antiquated terms some—”

Bucky interrupted and said, “Goodbye, Princess.”

He pressed the red phone to disconnect before she could sass him further. When he looked up at Steve, his friend just said, “She’s a handful.”

“You have no idea.”

Steve smiled. “Reminds me of Becca.”

The memory of his little sister made Bucky smile back. “Yeah, me too. She’s a good kid.”

“Darcy seems like a nice girl,” Steve said, dropping his gaze to the floor before looking up at Bucky, probably trying to gauge if he was broaching a topic Bucky didn’t want to discuss.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed.

“You like her?”

“Steve…”

“I ain’t asking like that, jerk. I’m just… I’m just asking if you two are getting along.”

“What do you think?” Bucky asked crossing an ankle over his knee as he sank back into the couch.

Steve shrugged. “You both seem comfortable with one another. I guess that’s the most we can ask for right now.”

“The most we can ask for, period,” Bucky told him.

Steve just smiled and nodded. “Right.”

Looking down at the phone again, Bucky scrolled back up to her name and wet his lips with his tongue. “How do I just do the voice call?”

“Change the mode at the bottom.”

Bucky found the button and slid it over to voice before he touched her name gingerly with his thumb. The phone rang once as he pressed it to his ear and then twice more before her slightly breathless voice answered with, “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s… me. It’s Bucky.”

She chuckled. “Hey, you. Is this your phone? We forgot to exchange numbers.”

“Yeah. I thought the same thing after you left.”

“You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I…” He wanted to tell her that he'd been worried about her out there in the big, bad world that was filled with power-hungry people who wouldn’t think twice about taking something they thought was precious to him.

“You?” she prompted.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

She was quiet for a second before saying, “I’m okay. Picking up some Greek food that smelled good when I left Macy’s. I’ll be home in, like, fifteen or twenty.”

Home. She’d be _home_ in fifteen or twenty. They’d eat dinner together and maybe she’d let him listen to her talk until he curled up on the couch and hoped for unconsciousness. If pressed, he could go days without sleep, but the stress of the past two days had been overwhelming. “Okay,” he told her in a soft voice. “See you soon.”

“Bye,” she said.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he disconnected quickly and turned the phone face down on his leg.

“She on her way?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.”

Steve pushed himself up out of the chair and took two steps towards the door before turning around. “You’d tell me if it wasn’t working out with her, right?”

“It’s fine, punk. She’s… she’s perfect. Better than I deserve.”

“She’s exactly what you deserve, jerk.”

Bucky shook his head but didn’t bother arguing with Steve, the most hard-headed man he’d ever known. “There’s only one bedroom.”

Steve glanced over at the door. “I didn’t know that until we got here. None of the apartments have two bedrooms on these floors. Nat said they didn’t make other arrangements because they didn’t want it to seem like you were… roommates.”

He clenched his teeth together. “Yeah,” Bucky said.

“You wanna stay with me tonight?”

“No.” Bucky rubbed his eyes with his right hand again. They felt swollen and stung from the lack of sleep. His adrenaline levels were dropping and his ability to stay sharp was dwindling with them.

“You take my bed. I’ll take the—”

“No,” Bucky told Steve again. “I’ll sleep on the couch here. We don’t know when they’ll be stopping by. I ain’t gonna fuck this up from the beginning by being caught sneaking back into my own place.”

Steve stood there for a moment, silent with his eyes on Bucky. He pulled in a deep breath and said, “I’m glad you’re here, Buck. You’ll tell me if I can do anything to help you, right?”

“Yeah, punk. Get outta here. Go to bed.”

“It’s not even eight,” Steve told him.

“We’ve crossed thousands of miles and a few time zones. And I know you didn’t sleep that last night in Wakanda. You were probably sitting there reading those contracts again.”

Steve gave Bucky a warm smile that reminded him of years ago when they’d get into trouble as teenagers. They’d been through hell and back, both of them.

“Hey,” Bucky called out to Steve’s retreating back. “Thanks for… all this. Just… thanks. I owe you, punk.”

Steve shook his head and said, “Nah, you don’t owe me anything but a hot dog from Nathan’s.”

Bucky chuckled. “I bet they're more than a nickel now.”

“Three fifty with chili and cheese. You let me know when you wanna collect and we’ll grab the Q train out to Coney Island.”

The idea was so ridiculous, and yet it was also so appealing. “Yeah, I’ll let you know,” he told Steve.

* * *

**[July 9, 2018, 7:33pm]**

Darcy returned shortly after Steve left. She’d knocked on the door with her forehead and was getting ready to do so again when he opened it for her. She had a large shopping bag in her left hand and a matching one in her right with a smaller plastic bag. He could smell the food inside of it, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten anything in over twenty-four hours. Darcy had eaten breakfast with Shuri, but he’d been too anxious.

“What is all this?” he asked, taking the larger bags from her. They were white and made of thick paper. Each side had a red star. He knew it was the logo for the department store she’d visited, but the sight of the red star made his mind trip, and he stood there in the foyer like an idiot, staring at the bold logo.

Darcy pushed back her hair as she closed the door and said, “Clothes and food. I’m starving.” She looked up at him and all that hustle and bustle she’d probably had out there on the streets just melted away. “Hey, are you alright?”

He tried to snap himself out of the loop he’d gotten caught in, thinking about his time with HYDRA and that fucking red star he’d carried with him on the left shoulder, but it was difficult to break the thoughts loose. She looked so concerned for his well-being. It was real concern, too. Real like the way Steve looked at him when he reached out a hand and grabbed his shoulder to ask how he was doing. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

She slipped past him and walked around the breakfast bar between the kitchen and the living area. “I didn’t know what your style is, so I got the basics. Jeans, athletic pants and shorts, cotton pajama pants, T-shirts, a couple of hoodies. I guessed the sizes. No three-piece suits or bold fashion choices.” Darcy sat the bag of food on the countertop of the bar and went into the kitchen to grab some plates and silverware.

Bucky was still standing on the tile in the hallway, watching her search through the cabinets for what they needed. He looked down at the bags in his hands and saw the clothes inside, not the red star on the outside, for the first time. “Thank you,” he murmured, feeling awkward. Would he ever not be a burden? She was probably more exhausted than he was and he’d let her go out there and buy him clothes because he wasn’t capable of functioning. “I’m… sorry. I should have… I should have done this myself. You shouldn’t have to… do this kind of thing… for me.”

Setting the plates and forks next to the bag of food, she started unloading the containers onto the counter. “Don’t apologize,” Darcy told him. “It’s fine. I don’t mind. Actually, it was kinda fun spending someone else’s money. I got you boxers, by the way. I’m not a sadist. The boxer briefs in there are for our little inside joke with the marriage counselor or whatever this person is supposed to be. Don’t think you have to wear them.”

He swallowed and tried to force a smile. It was pathetic and more like a grimace. “Okay.”

“Put the bags down and come eat.” She looked over her shoulder at him. She made it sound so easy. She made it _feel_ so easy. He was so far in debt with her, but she made it feel like nothing, like it cost her nothing to go out there and get him clothes and food after the day they’d been through.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Darcy looked over her shoulder again and smiled. “It’s really nothing. Don’t sweat it. Come over here and eat.”

He sat the bags on the floor against the wall and slipped onto a stool next to her. The food smelled even more delicious now that she’d taken the lids off the bowls. They were both filled with rice and lentils and seasoned green beans with slices of potatoes. Two little balls of falafel were nestled along one side of the bowl. The crust looked crispy and his mouth watered as he remembered the one and only time he’d eaten falafel. Thin slices of gyro with cucumbers and tomatoes and olives laid on top of everything.

“I hope you aren’t picky. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but this place was a block down from Macy’s and it smelled… so… fucking… good.” Darcy sat a small plastic container next to his bowl. “Tzatziki. I got it on the side in case you don’t like it.”

“It all looks amazing,” Bucky told her.

She gave him a warm smile and stuck a fork into his dinner. “Good. Eat up. There’s some pita in the paper right there.” He looked at the wax paper on the counter where she’d pointed with her fork. “Ahh, fuck. I forgot the drinks.”

Bucky held out a hand to keep her from standing before he slipped off the stood. “I’ll get it. You’ve done so much already.”

She shrugged, seeming a little embarrassed at him acknowledging her effort. It took him two tries to find the glasses. She giggled as he filled one of them from the tap. When Bucky glanced over to see what was so funny, Darcy used her fork to point at the fridge. “Dispenser in the door. Use the glass to press the lever and the fridge will fill it with chilled water.”

He stood there with a half-full glass of water and the facet running for a long moment before her instructions made it through his thick skull. “Oh. Sorry,”

Shaking her head, Darcy said, “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Teaching me about our fridge isn’t your job.” He dumped the water and did as she said. Sure enough, a stream of cool water filled the glass.

While he was filling the second glass, she said, “Pretty sure my job doesn’t have a description, but I’m also pretty sure if it did, then the description would be to make your life easier and help you keep your freedom.” She watched him return to his seat with their waters in hand. “So, teaching you about fancy fridges totally is my job. So is buying your underwear.” She mixed her food up a bit. “Although, I don’t consider buying your underwear to be a job, really. It’s more of a passion.”

He shook his head, but couldn’t suppress his grin. “You know, you say some of the most ridiculous things, sweetheart.”

Darcy took a bite of her dinner. “I know,” she told him, “I’ve been told that by more than a few people.”

Bucky wanted to kick himself for saying what he’d said. Telling a woman she said ridiculous things wasn’t exactly appropriate when she was the only thing standing between you and a maximum security jail cell in the middle of the ocean. Besides, he didn’t mean it _that_ way, in a belittling or patronizing way. He kept his eyes on his plate, but said, “I don’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I know,” she repeated. “You know, I’m really enjoying this. You’re even more awkward than I am when you put your foot in your mouth.”

A bark of abrupt laughter escaped his mouth. “I’m serious, Darcy,” he told her. He couldn’t seem to make the smile go away so he could look serious, though. “I can’t thank you enough for—”

“Shhhh,” she said, hushing him. “Don’t make this weird. Eat your food.” She took another bite of hers.

“This is already weird.”

Darcy looked over with raised brows. After she finished chewing, she said, “Then don’t make it weirder. Eaaaaat, dude. I get uncomfortable when people thank me too much. And when I get uncomfortable, I say stupid shit.”

“You haven’t said any stupid shit,” Bucky said, finally taking a bite from his bowl. The gyro was tender and went well with the flavorful green beans.

“I told you that buying your underwear was a passion of mine like… a minute ago.”

“Okay,” he agreed. “No more thank yous.”

“Good. I grew up with three brothers who were all more than seven years older than me. I’m not used to thankfulness and feelings. Merciless teasing is more my speed.”

He took another bite before saying, “I’m not your brother.”

She laughed softly under her breath. “Believe me, I know.” After a brief pause so they could each take a few bites, Darcy said, “What I did in the car on the way back to the quinjet... You know, touching you and holding your hand. Was that okay? Was it… too much?”

“No, it was fine. You were perfect.”

She nodded. “Okay. I mean, I know we have to put on an act, but I don’t want you to feel like… Well, I don’t want to, like, invade your space or make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You don’t. You didn’t. I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” she said. “Just making sure. You’d tell me when we’re alone if I went too far in public, right?”

Bucky swallowed the mouthful of potatoes and rice and tomatoes. He did not deserve this woman. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“Good,” she replied before reaching over his plate and taking a pita from the wax paper.

* * *

**[July 10, 2018, 1:28am]**

The gunshots were in the distance but also right next to his ear, so deafening they made his muscles lock up in fear. There was blood all over him, some of it thick and dark and dripping from his fingertips, some of it bright red and smeared on the white shirt she’d given him. Where was she? His heart was hammering in his chest and suddenly he couldn’t breathe because of acrid smoke filling the air. It was the unmistakable smell of human hair and flesh burning.

Who was screaming? Was that… her? Was that him? Who… There was a hole in his chest. Was he shot? Who did he kill? His left arm was silver with a red star. No.

Bucky gasped as he sat up on the couch. His right hand was trembling even as he used it to pull himself up further. A nightmare. It had only been a nightmare. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, the exclamation full of despair over the full-fledged return of those horror shows in his head that infiltrated his dreams. He’d been hopeful that the vague ones that had been giving him uneasy feelings the past couple weeks would fade away again. Obviously, that wasn’t going to be the case.

He swung his legs around to plant his feet on the floor. The white shirt she’d given him to wear to bed with the grey sweatpants was soaked with sweat. The collar and back of it clung to his skin. It was good he’d slept on the couch after dinner. Not that it had ever been a choice. There was no way he could sleep in the bed with her, not even if his sleep were peaceful and dreamless.

The light from the windows cast a cold, blue-tinged glow over the living room. Bucky hung his head and inhaled deeply. One, two, three, four. He held that breath until he counted to seven. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, he counted in his head as he exhaled from pursed lips. The steady stream of air hit his bare feet.

He pulled in another deep breath as he counted to four in his head. Just as he was exhaling, he heard a whisper of noise across the room. For a brief, illogical moment, he thought his dream had been real and he was going to die. However, when he looked up, he saw Darcy standing in the door of the bedroom, one hand on the doorframe and the other hanging by her thigh. Her bare thigh. She was in an oversized nightshirt and nothing else. She’d closed the bedroom door after she’d brushed her teeth in the shared bathroom, promising to give him some privacy. Now it was open again.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, his voice sounding rough and impossibly loud.

“No,” she told him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m sorry.”

Darcy shook her head. “Don’t apologize. Are you okay?” He couldn’t make out her expression, but he could see the way her hair was a little messy and swept over her shoulder to cascade down and cover her breast. She was beautiful and seemed to have no idea.

“Fine,” Bucky told her. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I woke you.”

“I said you didn’t.”

He gave her a wry smile that twisted his face up. “You just said that to make me feel better.”

“Okay, fine,” she said, relenting. “But don’t you dare feel guilty about it.”

Bucky hung his head again as he rubbed at his eyes with his right hand. He almost told her that he’d been worried for her in the dream, but that little piece of information was a step too far. It revealed that in the short period of time he’d known her, she’d become important to him. The thought made him nauseous. After years of keeping most people at a distance, he was being forced into a situation where he was close enough to care again.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered, unsure if he was talking to himself or to her.

“You want the bed? Maybe you’ll be more comfortable.” Darcy looked so eager to help, so accommodating.

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about this. All of this.”

He watched her walk across the floor, looking like some sort of dark-haired angel in that pale pink T-shirt that was just barely slipping off her shoulder. Bucky didn’t take a breath until she sat down next to him. There was a good foot of space between their thighs, but she was still so very, very close. The heat of her body and the scent of her hair were intoxicating, and he tried to tell himself it was because he wasn’t used to being this close to a woman, especially one who didn’t have pants on.

“I know it sucks right now. You’ve got a lot of shit on your plate,” Darcy said, voice soft and intimate. “Of course you’re having nightmares after all the stress of today. But you got through it, right? That’s huge. Take things one at a time, Bucky.” When he didn’t reply or look in her direction, she added, “Let me help you. I want to help.”

“You’re already doing enough,” he whispered.

“What I’m doing right now… What I’m doing isn’t hard, dude. It doesn’t… It isn’t difficult to buy your clothes or pick up dinner for us or sleep on the couch so you can get a good night’s rest. Or hold your hand in public so people think we’re together. None of that takes much effort, I swear.”

“You’ve only been doing it a day. What happens when you have to tell someone you…” Bucky felt sick just saying it. “What happens when you have to tell someone you love me? That’s too much to ask of someone. You couldn’t even say it to Nat when—”

“We’re taking things a day at a time,” she said, interrupting. “Plus, those are just words. Words don’t mean anything unless you want them to. Saying that I love you doesn’t cost me anything. I’m not going to die inside if I have to tell some shrink paid to spy on you that I love you.” She had her hands folded together in her lap. “Also, I actually _did_ say it to Nat on the jet. So don’t tell me I couldn’t even say it.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t… I feel like a piece of shit asking you to do that. It’s like… it’s like I’m asking you to compromise yourself.”

She laughed softly under her breath. “I’ve compromised myself for less than this, dude. If I have to tell a fib to help you get your life back after some assholes took it from you… That doesn’t bother me at all. The only reason I hesitated was because it was kinda awkward. I mean, we all knew what was going on. There wasn’t anyone there to fool. I won’t hesitate if it actually means something, you know.”

They sat there in silence for a full minute, but it felt like longer to Bucky. It felt like an hour. The air conditioning unit kicking on startled them both.

“Switch me,” Darcy said. “You take the bed for the rest of the night.”

“No.” His answer was emphatic and she seemed to understand there would be no compromise.

“The bed is big. You can stay on your side, I’ll stay on mine.”

“No,” he repeated.

She picked at the hem of her shirt before saying, “Okay. Fine.” Darcy leaned forward and grabbed the remote control off the table. “When I have nightmares, I usually watch something stupid on television until I can fall asleep again.”

Bucky looked down at the remote she was offering.

Pointing at the red button in the upper corner, she said, “This is the power button. And this one changes the channel.”

“I know how a remote works, sweetheart. I’ve used one before.”

“Well, you didn’t know how the water dispenser on the fridge worked. How am I supposed to know what technology you’re familiar with?”

“I’ll be okay,” he promised her. “Thank you for sitting here with me for a few minutes.”

“Anytime, dude. I’m here to help. I’m your buffer, remember?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

Darcy threw her hands up in the air as if she just remembered something. He watched as she turned on her heel before hurrying over to a bag she’d left on the kitchen counter. Darcy pulled something out of it and returned to the couch. “I forgot to give this to you. One Hersey’s Chocolate Bar, as promised. Next time, I’m gonna talk you into Godiva or something. I know you’ve got fond memories and all, but there’s better chocolate.”

“Why’d you get me this, then?” Bucky asked as he accepted the bar from him.

“Because you asked for it.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the Hersey’s Bar wrapped in plastic.

“You’re not used to getting what you ask for,” she said.

“I’m not used to asking, actually.”

She smiled. “Better get used to it. I’m not a mind reader. Have your snack and chill. If you want company, yell for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up tomorrow: Bucky and Darcy watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer before a boys' night at Steve's with hot wings and baseball.


	11. Chapter 11

> _”And in the night I could be helpless, I could be lonely, sleeping without you. And in the day everything’s complex, there’s nothing simple when I’m not around you.” - The Cranberries (When You’re Gone)_

**[July 10, 2018, 10:46am]**

Sam Wilson had caught her exiting the side door of the building and had asked if he could tag along when she’d told him she was going grocery shopping. She’d been secretly relieved because she’d planned on getting a little more than she could comfortably carry over the three blocks between the store and the apartment building. Maybe he could help her with a bag or two on the way back. She’d taken one look at Bucky that morning as he sat in the armchair by the window and knew asking him would be futile. He wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, he seemed to be doing worse now than he’d been the day before when things with Ross and the contracts and Tony Stark had been touch and go.

“How are things going?” Sam asked, watching her pick through a pile of green bananas for ones she could use this century for smoothies.

She looked around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. They were alone in the produce section. “Uh, well, not terrible but not great.”

He nodded. “Is he still beating himself up?”

She scrunched her nose up. “Well, yes and no. I think it’s more that he’s overwhelmed. Like, he’s on overload or something. Yesterday was a lot and he seemed like he was handling it like a pro and then… Uh, last night he had nightmares. Like, a lot of nightmares.”

“What do you mean?” He took her basket from her while she kept looking for ripe bananas.

“He woke me up three times thrashing around and yelling.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Sam looked concerned.

“No. _No_. He, uh, insisted on taking the couch. I tried to get him to switch me because the bed is more comfortable, but he’s pretty stubborn. I heard him through the closed bedroom door. The first time was around ten o’clock. We’d only been asleep for a little over an hour. I don’t think he woke up that time, but he did the next time I heard him at, like, one-thirty in the morning.”

She put a group of five bananas in the handbasket Sam was holding for her and moved over to where the greens were along the wall. “Did he talk about it?” Sam asked her.

“No. Not about the nightmares. We talked for a few minutes, though, before I went back to bed. He woke up around quarter to four this morning. I didn’t go out there, but I heard him yell and then I heard him moving around the apartment. I didn’t…” Darcy sighed. “I wanted to give him some privacy. He seemed kinda upset that I’d heard him before.”

“You okay?” Sam said, holding the basket out so she could drop a bag of pre-washed baby spinach into it.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. I mean, I slept between his nightmares and I got solid sleep after four. I actually just woke up about a half an hour before you saw me. I don’t think he went back to sleep after he got up at four, though. Figured I’d get out of the apartment and maybe get him something to eat.”

Sam followed her over to bags of packaged nuts and seeds, carrying her groceries as they went. “We’re here to support you, Darcy. You don’t have to do this on your own and neither does Bucky.”

“I know. I just don’t think he’s capable of accepting help right now.”

“Which is why I’m telling you we’re here to help you, too.”

She smiled at him. “I’m good. Really. Just… trying to figure out how this is going to work. I mean, it hasn’t even been a day, so I shouldn’t get upset that things aren’t okay yet. Right?”

“Right,” Sam said with a nod of his head. “This is a big change for everyone. Give him some time. Give yourself some time.”

“Hey, I’ve got nothing but time,” she said, dropping a small bag of chia seeds into the basket.

“What are you making?” he asked, looking at the ingredients.

“Protein smoothie. I didn’t know what else to make for a super soldier. What does Steve eat?”

Sam snorted. “Everything he can get his hands on. I don’t think either of them is that picky.”

* * *

**[July 10, 2018, 11:39am]**

He was where she’d left him when she returned with Sam in tow.

“Hey, man,” Sam said, giving Bucky a nod as he lifted the four grocery bags he’d carried for her onto the counter by the fridge. Darcy put her three lighter bags on the counter beside them and busied herself stowing away the cold items.

“Hey,” Bucky replied.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Sam crossed his arms and walked over to where Bucky was seated by the window. “It’s wild, huh? Getting used to being back here.” Sam laughed under his breath as he looked out over the city. “I almost can’t believe it.”

“Yeah,” was Bucky’s only reply.

“There’s a ball game on tonight. Yankees and Dodgers. Come up to Steve’s place and watch with us.”

Bucky gave Sam a tense, closed-lipped smile. “Yeah, maybe,” he replied.

“Seven o’clock,” Sam said, taking a couple of steps back. “Rogers will come down here looking for you if you don’t show. You know how he gets.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, nodding his head.

Sam turned to acknowledge Darcy as she closed the fridge. “Thanks for letting me tag along, Darcy.”

“Thanks for the muscle.”

“Anytime,” Sam replied, letting himself out.

“You want a smoothie?” she asked, looking over the breakfast bar at Bucky. He’d turned his head to watch her as she put some cans of soup in the pantry.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She put her hands on her hips. “Sorry about what?”

“Not helping you. I feel so fucking useless. I… feel like I’ve forgotten everything.”

She waved away his concern. “We just got here. Give it time. And don’t be sorry about not going with me. I know you didn’t get much sleep last night. I was hoping you’d catch a nap while I was out.”

“Can’t,” he told her.

Deciding not to push him, she said, “I make a mean green smoothie with protein powder. Will you drink it if I make one for you?”

He stood up and walked over to sit on one of the stools, facing her as she waited in the kitchen. “You don’t have to,” he finally said.

“I’m making one for myself; it’s no trouble.”

She turned around and pulled the blender she’d noticed yesterday out of the cabinet before assembling the ingredients next to it. Darcy looked up when he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry about last night. Sorry I woke you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You gotta stop apologizing to me, dude. It’s not a big deal; I promise. I got plenty of sleep. Besides, it isn’t like I have a schedule to keep.”

“I’m worried I made a mistake,” he told her as she broke a banana in half and dropped it into the blender.

“It’s too early for you to know that, Bucky. We haven’t even been here for a day. Give it some time.”

“I’m disrupting your life. You’re spending all your time buying me clothes and getting me food and I’m keeping you up all night.” He looked sick.

She laughed as she threw in two handfuls of spinach leaves. “Not that it’s healthy or anything, but that sounds like a lot of actual marriages. The wife does the shopping and the cooking and her husband keeps her up with his snoring.”

Bucky winced.

“Yeah, lame. Right? Trust me, we’re not that. You’re fine.” She dumped in chunks of frozen pineapple and mango that were in resealable bags. “This is a special situation. Things will get better. It won’t always be this way. I know that, so it isn’t hard for me to help you. It isn’t a burden.”

“Sweetheart, what makes you so sure this is temporary? Steve wants me to be who I was ages ago, but… that guy is gone.”

“I think Steve just wants you to enjoy life when you can. You don’t have to be happy all the time, but… maybe in the future, you can sometimes just… be okay. You know?”

“What do _you_ want?”

His question tripped her up for a moment. It wasn’t something she had been expecting him to ask. “For you? The same thing. You seem like a great guy. You deserve to live where you want to live and enjoy your life without people breathing down your neck about things that were never even your fault.”

“For you,” he replied.

“What do I want for me?” Her chuckle was nervous as she unscrewed the lid from the gallon of almond milk. “Uh, I don’t know. To be okay, too? A stable job that doesn’t suck my soul out of my body, good friends, good times.” When he opened his mouth, she held up a finger. “And when I say a job that doesn’t suck my soul out, I’m not talking about this job. This job is a fucking cakewalk. I’m talking about a desk job at an accountant’s office where I do filing and input data into spreadsheets and die a little more every day.”

Bucky smiled and this time it looked genuine. “I can’t promise this job is going to be any more exciting than that.”

“The pay is better and so is the eye candy.”

“Eye candy?” he asked.

“I get to look at your ass in those loose pajama pants.” She mimed a chef’s kiss, fingertips lightly on her lips before throwing her hand open. “Top notch, Barnes.”

He laughed, hanging his head in what looked like embarrassment. Darcy felt her cheeks heat with a blush at what she’d been bold enough to say, but it was all worth it if she was able to make him laugh. When he’d pulled himself together, he looked up to see her dropping a couple of scoops of protein powder into the mixture. “What the hell are you making anyway?”

“Green smoothie.”

“Doll, that looks terrible.”

“Don’t doubt me. It’ll taste wonderful.”

* * *

**[July 10, 2018, 3:18pm]**

The smoothie must have been to his liking because he’d gone back to the kitchen to scrape the remainder into his glass. Darcy had taken mercy on him and made a second batch that he’d drank while standing in the kitchen listening to her make a case for watching episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. He really didn’t take that much convincing, all things considered.

Now, they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, watching the fourth episode of the first season. “Who is Angel?” he asked. “Is he a vampire?”

Darcy smiled to herself, happy to see that he had been paying attention. “You’ll have to wait and see. All will be revealed in a few episodes. Or… well, maybe not all, but some.”

“This is a… strange television program.”

“Do you hate it?” she asked. “And be honest.”

Bucky shook his head. ‘No. I don’t hate it.”

“Is the violence… too much?”

He shook his head again. “No. It’s… not that violent. It’s actually kinda silly.”

“Good. Promise you’ll tell me if you’re bored of it and want to move on to something else?”

“It’s fine, sweetheart. Really.” He stretched one leg out in front of him and settled back into the couch as the next episode started to play. He hadn’t changed out of his pajamas, but that was okay with her. He looked fantastic in them and he deserved a day or a week or a month of doing nothing and having no responsibilities.

* * *

**[July 10, 2018, 6:49pm]**

They’d watched three more episodes before Darcy stood up and stretched. “Are you going to go hang with Sam and Steve?”

Bucky’s eyes were on the strip of skin above the waist of her jeans that had been exposed when she lifted her arms in a stretch. He dropped his gaze so fast, she wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. “No,” he said.

“Tired?”

“No.”

She sat back down, folding her legs beneath her and turning to face him. “Do you want some privacy? It must be hard going from solo living to living with… me.”

Bucky shifted, angling his body away from her. “You’re fine.”

“That wasn’t an answer to my question. Do you want some privacy? Alone time? I get it, you know. Sometimes you just need to be by yourself.”

“No, I don’t mind you around. You don’t make me talk.”

She laughed. “I don’t? Jane tells me I talk all the time.”

He glanced over, brows furrowed in confusion. “You don’t. We just sat here and watched the television all afternoon and barely spoke.”

“But I did. I kept telling you about my favorite parts and teasing you about what is coming next. Didn’t that drive you crazy?”

“No. You didn’t expect me to respond. It was… nice to sit here with you.”

Darcy smiled at him, feeling giddy and pleased with herself. “We can do it again tomorrow if you want. We can watch something else, something you pick.”

He gestured at the television. “I kinda want to find out what she does about Angel. I thought he was a vampire from the beginning.”

“Who is your favorite character so far?”

She was expecting him to say Buffy or maybe even Angel, what with his own past and all. Instead, he said, “Willow.”

Darcy didn’t even try to hide her surprise. “Willow? Why?”

Letting his head fall back to rest on the couch, he said, “I don’t know. She’s smart and funny and she cares about everyone. Is she not a good person to like?”

“Well, no… I mean, I was just surprised you said her. She was my favorite, too. But that was probably more because I saw myself in her when I was a teenager.”

“I see you in her now.” He didn’t look at her when he said it. His eyes were on the vaulted ceiling.

She didn’t know how to respond. After a moment of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and said, “We can watch more episodes tomorrow. Sam said they have a job for me, but it doesn’t start until next week.”

Bucky rolled his head to look over at her. His eyes were weary and haunted. “What job?”

Shrugging, she said, “Something in the office, but I don’t have details. You guys have an office now.”

“They have an office; I don’t,” he corrected.

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, okay. You know they all think of you as part of the team, regardless of whether you’re out there fighting or not.”

“Steve thinks that.”

“So does Sam and Nat and T’Challa. I haven’t met the others, but I’m sure the ones who have met you do, too.”

He closed his eyes and exhaled a weary sigh. “You think they want my help?”

“Uh, yeah. I do, actually. They probably want all the help they can get if something comes up. Thor is gone. Bruce Banner is missing. If HYDRA has technology that can kill hundreds of people at Fort Bliss—an actual army base—then think of what they can do to Midtown Manhattan or Chicago or Tokyo or New Delhi.”

Bucky’s jaw muscles tightened, but he didn’t reply.

Wincing at her poor choice of words, Darcy said, “Not that I’m saying you need to fight or anything. I just—”

“No,” he said, “I _do_ need to fight.”

“You don’t. None of them would—”

“Darcy, I need to fight for my own sanity. I can’t just… I can’t sit back and watch that happen. I just don’t know if they’re willing to let me.”

“They? Are you talking about Tony Stark?”

“Him and the others. Wanda and Vision. Clint and Scott Lang.” They might have met me, but they don’t know me. They don’t have any reason to trust me other than Steve’s word.”

She shifted and that made him open his eyes and look over at her. “Do they have a reason not to trust you?”

“I was HYDRA.” His voice was flat, like her question had been silly.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Not really, though. I mean, I know your past with them, but that wasn’t you. You didn’t even know your name. I think they all know that. I mean, wasn’t Tony trying to kill you a couple of years ago because of it? He seemed pretty civil to me when you two met. He sat across a conference table from you for hours.”

“He needs Steve, not me.”

“Maybe,” Darcy conceded. “Or maybe he knows what it feels like to be used by HYDRA. They stole his technology to make suits they used to kill people. Maybe he’s got some perspective now.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes again. “Maybe.”

“You know I’ll be your buffer either way, right? Whether you fight or not.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.”

“I don’t have to be. I want to be.”

The screen of Bucky’s phone lit up as it vibrated. They both looked at it on the coffee table and saw Steve’s name on the screen.

“You should answer it,” Darcy told him.

“He just wants me to come pretend like things are okay.”

“Sometimes if you pretend like things are okay, it can make you feel better,” Darcy told him. “Believe me. I have a lot of experience with that method of coping.”

“Things aren’t okay,” he told her. “You’re giving up a year of your life to babysit me. I’m too afraid to step outside of this apartment. HYDRA is more capable now than ever of killing thousands of people in seconds. The American government doesn’t trust me and has someone coming to make sure you’re a real babysitter.”

“You’ve got a rent-a-wife for a year, and she’s pretty pleased with her new job. You’ve got a team of friends or almost-friends to help you take out the people who tried to ruin your life and are trying to do the same to a bunch of other people. The American government doesn’t trust anyone, but you and I are going to play our parts so convincingly that they don’t feel the need to send their little social worker more than a few times. And you don’t have to step outside until you’re ready. And when you are ready, you’ve already got a date.

“A date?”

“Yeah, I want to go get a slice of pizza and people-watch with you.”

Bucky chuckled and looked away. “You always been a glass-half-full person?”

“I’ve always been a let’s-refill-that-fucking-glass kind of person.”

This made him laugh a little harder. When his chuckles died down, he wiped his hand over his face and said, “You wanna go watch a baseball game with me?”

“I thought it was guys’ night.”

“If you want some time alone here, then you don’t—”

“I didn’t say that,” she interrupted. “I just thought it was you three nerds hanging out. I wasn’t actually invited.”

“I’m inviting you,” he replied.

She didn’t care for baseball, but she did care about Bucky finding ways to live again instead of exiling himself to this little apartment they shared. If going with him was going to get him there, then she’d happily play along. “Okay,” Darcy said, “let’s go. I hope they have snacks. I’m starving.”

* * *

**[July 10, 2018, 9:37pm]**

Darcy washed the hot sauce off her fingers in Steve’s kitchen sink. She’d been expecting a healthy dinner out of Steve Rogers but instead, she’d gotten buffalo wings and hot dogs, potato salad and fried pickles. She had no idea how those guys looked so good with the muscles and flat abs if they shoveled all that food down their throats on a daily basis. Steve Rogers was the worst of the three. He’d eaten enough for five people. Darcy had just sat in awe as he filled and devoured plate after plate.

The three of them were sitting in the living room watching the seventh inning. The score was tied and for some reason, Sam was getting great pleasure from taunting Steve and Bucky over the Dodgers losing. Steve was on the edge of his seat, hands clasped and forearms resting on his knees. He’d occasionally stand up, eyes glued to the screen.

Bucky seemed better now than he’d been that morning. He was smiling at the two other men and even joking with them now and then. Darcy felt like she’d done her part toward helping him ease into life after hiding in Wakanda. He just needed time and some understanding.

She turned around to dry her hands on a dishtowel by the sink.

“You okay?” When she looked up, Bucky was standing there next to her, his hip resting against the counter.

She smiled up at him as she dried her hands. “Yep. Are you?”

“Yeah. Thank you for making me come here tonight.”

“I didn’t really make you.”

“You made me feel like I should. And you were right.” He was so close, just a foot away. He’d put on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt before they’d left. He’d pushed the sleeves of that shirt up to reveal his forearms, and it was a very good look on him. So good she kept getting distracted by the muscles of his right arm and the way the vibranium on the left contrasted with the cream-colored cotton shirt. His hair was mostly down, with just the part that framed his face pulled back into a messy bun.

“I’m usually right,” Darcy quipped. “It’s good that you figured it out so quickly.” The wedding ring that said she was married always felt especially strange after washing her hands. The water would get underneath it and leave her hand feeling not-quite-dry. It made the ring more noticeable. She twisted it up her finger to the knuckle so she could use a towel to dry the skin beneath it before sliding it back into place.

When she looked up at him, she found that he’d been watching her. “The ring still feels… weird,” he told her.

“Yeah,” Darcy agreed. “Sometimes I forget about it and then… other times it’s all I can feel.”

He wet his lips with his tongue before saying, “I never thought… I didn’t think I’d get married after…” Bucky sighed. “After everything.”

“You’re not the only one. I’m almost thirty and I can’t even keep a boyfriend.”

“I don’t believe that,” he told her.

Darcy laughed at the serious look on his face. “It’s the truth. I’m bad at relationships. Or bad at picking guys.”

He looked so earnest when he said, “I don’t have any complaints.”

His comment made her heart flutter and her stomach flip over. “Yeah, well, you’ve only known me for a couple of days. I’ve been on my best behavior.”

He smiled down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling up into happy wrinkles. “I’m ready to see your worst behavior, then. Might make me feel better about myself. Right now I feel like the weak link in this… relationship.”

“Oh!” Sam yelled. “How are your boys coming back from that one?”

Steve was standing, hands on his hips, and looking absolutely disgusted with whatever play had just happened in the ball game. “Uh oh,” Darcy said, raising her brows at Bucky.

He laughed softly and pushed himself off the counter to take a step away from her. “Steve likes baseball and is also competitive.”

“No shit,” she replied.

“You wanna go home?” he asked.

The way he said it made her feel like she was on a rollercoaster and it had just dipped. He said it like this was a real relationship, like she was actually his wife, like they were at his friend’s house and he wanted to know if she’d like to go home early.

“No, I’m okay. Seventh inning is almost done anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow? Their marriage parole officer stops by unannounced to make sure things are in order.


	12. Chapter 12

> _”Now, I want someone badly, to burn here with me. But listen baby, ‘cause I cry all over madly. Don’t do anything, do it with me. Ooh, I want to know. Am I sure that I have your love?” - Jeff Buckley (I Want Someone Badly)_

**[July 11, 2018, 9:13am]**

Bucky felt like he was riding a yo-yo. The nights were like a freefall down into nightmares, sleeplessness, anxiety, and panic. When she slipped into the living room each morning, he could feel himself being tugged back up into the world everyone else lived in. It was disorienting and made that much worse by the fact that he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days. He could exist like this with minimal rest for weeks because he’d done it before right after he’d walked away from HYDRA. Those first few months were the darkest of his life. What he was going through now didn’t come close, but knowing that she was tied to him through it was what made him despair.

What did she think of him when he woke her with shouts and screams and flailing limbs? He’d kicked the coffee table over last night during a nightmare. He’d actually flipped the entire thing over and spilled his glass of water. Darcy had tried to help him clean up the mess, but he’d barked at her and she’d slipped back into the bedroom before closing the door behind her. He should have apologized, but he didn’t. Apologizing felt like all he’d been doing with her. She gave him a wide berth when she’d padded into the kitchen in her bare feet and bright green pajamas to make coffee. Bucky remained in the chair he’d been sitting in since three in the morning. At least the sunrise had been worth the wait with all the pinks and oranges creeping their way toward a brilliant blue. Now the sun was fully in the sky and the day outside looked hot and humid. He had no desire to confirm his suspicions, though.

Darcy stopped what she was doing when the doorbell dinged. Her eyes went to Bucky just as he looked up at her.

“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.

He gave a curt shake of his head. “Are you?”

“No. She stepped over to the door and looked out the peephole. His heart went into his throat when she walked down the short hall with panic in her eyes. “Babysitter,” she mouthed to him before grimacing.

Bucky immediately stood up and looked around himself, at a loss for what to do. She waved to get his attention, pointing emphatically at the pillow and blanket on the couch. Hastily, he grabbed them and hurried toward the bedroom. As soon as he was out of the living room, she opened the door.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” he heard her ask.

“Mrs. Barnes?”

She didn’t hesitate when she said, “Yes?”

“My name is Dr. Tafford. I’ve been retained by the Department of Defense to assist you and your husband in this transition.” The man’s voice was kind and soft. Slick. Bucky’s gut reaction was to distrust him.

“Oh. Uh… the counselor or whatever?” She was playing dumb and it was quite convincing.

“Psychiatrist, actually. But, yes, I’m here to make sure you and especially your husband are settling in. Now isn’t a bad time, is it?”

“Well, we didn’t know you were coming. We thought your office would call ahead to schedule something.”

Bucky could hear the fake smile in his voice as he said, “Oh, I apologize for that. It was my understanding these would be unannounced visits.”

“Oh.” Her voice was flat, irritated. “Sure. Yeah, you can come in. We actually just woke up. I think Bucky is getting dressed.”

Bucky clenched his teeth and slipped over to the dresser where he’d stashed all the clothes she’d bought him. He found a pair of dark jeans and a white T-shirt. Quickly, he changed into the jeans when he heard the door shut and footsteps down the tile hallway. He was buttoning them when he heard Darcy say, “I’m just going to get dressed. We’ll be right out,” to the man.

He pulled his shirt off at the same moment she opened the door. Darcy shut it behind her before looking up and freezing. He held the white T-shirt in his left hand but hadn’t put it on yet. His chest and stomach were bare for her to see. All the scars where the left arm met his torso were visible. For a moment, she stood there, mouth open. Before he managed to devise something to say, she shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and moved toward him.

Before she could speak, Bucky put his index finger over his lips. The man could have a listening device. He met her halfway across the floor, took her arms to pull her closer, and ducked his head so he could press his lips to the shell of her ear. “He might be able to listen to us,” Bucky whispered, his words barely there.

Darcy leaned back and nodded as she looked up at his face. “I know,” she mouthed. “Hey, babe. The guy from the D.O.D. is here to interview us or whatever.” That was said in a normal voice, loud enough that the man might have made out the words even without a device to enhance hearing.

“Okay,” he replied, “let me put my shirt on.” Bucky did just that, letting go of her long enough to slip the cotton tee over his head and tug it into place.

“Have you seen my bra?” she asked, loud enough for her voice to carry. “I don’t know where it went to last night when we got home from Steve’s.” The entire time she was talking, she was rifling through a drawer next to his, pulling out a button-up -shirt and a pale pink lace bra that looked very alluring and very big. Bucky swallowed and turned away. He walked over to the window. “Found it,” she said, moving behind him. “Must have kicked it under the bed.”

He listened to the whisper of clothing against her skin as she changed. The desire to turn around and look beat against his brain unrelentingly, but he remained where he was, back to her and eyes on the sheer curtains that muted the bright light coming through the window. “I thought they were going to call and schedule something,” he said, trying to fill the silence and not listen to the way the metal hooks on her bra sounded as she fastened them.

“Apparently, the government is inconsiderate. Color me _not_ surprised,” she told him. “Come on, babe. Let’s get this show on the road so we can get on with our day.”

He closed his eyes before he turned around. What if he turned too quickly? What if he caught a glimpse of her beautiful skin before she put on her shirt? What if, what if? He felt her take his right hand and squeeze it. The contact made Bucky open his eyes to find her standing right in front of him. Darcy was wearing a pair of dark blue leggings and a long button-up cream-colored shirt that fell halfway down her thighs. One shoulder of it slid down her arm, revealing the lacy strap of the bra.

Giving him a smile like everything was going to be just fine, Darcy tugged him across the room. She let go of him when she opened the door and walked into the living room. Bucky was right behind her, hand at the small of her back. It was subconscious and not an act, but when he realized what he was doing, he left his hand right where it was instead of jerking it back like he would have done any other time.

The man was in his early fifties with a pair of rimless glasses and salt and pepper hair cut short. Bucky determined right away that he was not on their side. In fact, he could practically see the wheels turning in the man’s head as his dark eyes took in the room and the way Bucky was shadowing Darcy. This man was there to pick them apart. The realization made him feel exhausted.

“Sorry,” Darcy said, sitting down in the middle of the couch. “Like I said, we just got out of bed. I thought the general rule was to call if you’re dropping by someone’s house before ten, but maybe I’ve been out of the country too long.” Her dig didn’t go unnoticed by the man sitting in the chair.

Bucky sat down next to Darcy, careful to not appear as if he was opposed to touching her. He wasn’t opposed at any time, but he didn’t need to be cuddled up with her while they were alone. It would just confuse things. She shifted and leaned into his body, making it look effortless and casual. Bucky didn’t look nearly as smooth when he lifted his left arm and draped it over her shoulders. She glanced over and smiled at him as he curled those vibranium fingers around her upper arm. It was the last thing he expected her to do while she was wrapped up in what was essentially a weapon.

“Yes, well, this is a special circumstance, Mrs. Barnes. The Department of Defense and the Department of Homeland Security have undertaken significant risk in allowing your husband to enter the country, considering his past. His being a changed man, married to a citizen of the United States was a contributing factor in the decision to accept the risk associated with his past.”

“You’re talking like he chose to work with HYDRA,” she said, steel underlying the sweetness of her voice. “I’ll have you know he’s a U.S. citizen, too. _And_ a war hero _and_ the Army’s longest surviving P.O.W.. General Ross should be giving him a Purple Heart.”

The man gave her a tense smile and sat back in the chair, resting a notepad he’d pulled from his briefcase on his knee. “I’m afraid that isn’t something I have control over, Mrs. Barnes.”

“So, what kind of hoops does Bucky need to jump through to make you happy?” She had attitude coming off her in waves, and Bucky was glad she was on his side. Darcy Lewis had no time for these older men jerking her around. She’d already put Ross in his place a couple of days ago and now this poor guy was attempting to navigate her.

Instead of answering her question, the man turned his attention to Bucky. “Mr. Barnes,” he said with a smile.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she interrupted.

Bucky could see the man’s patience was wearing thin. “Yes. I apologize. Sergeant Barnes, my name is Dr. Tafford. I’ve been asked by the—”

“Yeah, we know,” she interrupted again.

“Of course. Well, perhaps it would be best to talk about how you met your wife, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat and focused on her hand. She’d curled her fingers around his thigh right above the knee. Darcy’s touch was grounding, calming. “She traveled to Wakanda with Dr. Foster at Princess Shuri’s invitation. We attended a dinner together in King T’Challa’s home.”

“Oh? And what drew you to her?” Dr. Tafford asked, jotting something down on his notepad.

Bucky tilted his head to the side. “Well, I was seated next to this gorgeous woman who was also smart and great at conversation. I hadn’t seen anyone for a very long time, but Princess Shuri pestered me to ask her out on a date. So I did.”

“And how do you feel about that, Mrs. Barnes?”

Darcy snorted. “How do you think I felt about it? Pretty good. Have you seen him?”

“So, it was physical.”

“Well, at first, yeah. By the time we had dinner the next night, I knew he was special, though. I mean, a pretty face only takes you so far. We hit it off and kinda did the long-distance thing for a bit.”

“So, you met…?”

“About a year ago, right?” she asked, turning to look at Bucky. He smiled when she gave his thigh a light squeeze.

“July eighth,” he murmured, not looking away from her.

Dr. Tafford cleared his throat. “Really? So, it has been almost exactly a year. You married rather quickly, then?”

“We did,” he agreed. Boy, did they ever marry quickly. Within hours of meeting, actually. “We did phone calls and video chats. She visited two more times before I took her on a picnic and proposed.” He shifted and looked down at the wedding band on her right hand. “I didn’t have the money for an engagement ring, but she still said yes.”

“Hey,” she told the doctor as she pointed at Bucky, “when you’ve got him, you don’t need an engagement ring.”

“And it was a quick engagement?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Darcy agreed. “A few weeks. I had a break in October and visited for a week.”

“I didn’t want to wait,” Bucky added.

The man nodded, jotting something else down in on his pad. “Interesting. One would think you’d be reluctant to make those types of deep connections so quickly after… your experiences over the past few years.”

Bucky felt like he had a brick in his stomach. Was their story even believable? “There’s something about her that… calms me.” He absently rubbed his left hand down her upper arm. When he reached the bend at her elbow, he moved back up to the curve of her shoulder. Darcy shivered at the contact, snuggling into his side a bit more fully.

“We don’t understand why we’re being put under scrutiny like this. And, honestly, even if we weren’t married, he’s still not a threat to anyone.”

Tafford gave a thin smile. “Well, I’m not sure about that, Mrs. Barnes. You husband is quite capable of violence.” The way he said it made Bucky’s stomach sour, made him feel like he was nothing more than a weapon.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Darcy said, her tone icy. “I should have been more explicit. If you’re not an asshole who is trying to hurt innocent people, then my _husband_ is not a threat to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are we done here?”

“Not quite, Mrs. Barnes. I do have a couple other questions.”

“I’ll tell you where to—”

Bucky hugged her closer and dipped his head down so he could press his nose and mouth into her hair. She smelled so good his eyes fluttered closed. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. Let’s just… answer the man’s questions.”

“Your wife appears to have more of a temper than you do, Sergeant Barnes,” Tafford said, his voice light even if the conversation wasn’t.

“She’s protective of me,” he conceded. As much as Bucky didn’t want anyone fighting his battles, it felt good to have someone other than Steve go to bat for him like this. He kept trying to remind himself that this was all an act she was putting on for the doctor, but it didn’t _feel_ like an act, not even to him.

“I can see that,” Tafford said.

“I just don’t understand why our relationship is being questioned. It’s complete bullshit.”

“Oh, we aren’t questioning your relationship, Mrs. Barnes. We just want to ensure your husband has the tools he needs to reintegrate back into our society. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that he’s been through some traumatizing experiences, right?”

“Okay, then why is this some couple’s therapy session?” she insisted.

“Well, you’re obviously an important person in his life. Perhaps even someone he might use to ground himself in difficult times.”

“Yes,” Bucky agreed before Darcy could open her mouth.

“We just want to make sure you both have the tools to succeed. I’m only here to help.”

“With all due respect, dude, we don’t need any help,” Darcy replied. “We’re doing just fine.”

Tafford nodded. “Yes, that may be the case. But I am required to do my due diligence for the next few months.”

“Months?” Bucky and Darcy said at the same time.

The man smiled, showing teeth. Bucky didn’t trust him at all. There was something off about the situation, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. “Yes, months. I’d like to stop by a couple times a week. Perhaps meet with each of you separately. And together, of course.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” Darcy’s voice was dismissive, flippant. “Do what you need to do so we can get on with our lives.”

“I appreciate your cooperation, Mrs. Barnes. Now, tell me, what is it you like best about your husband?”

She raised her brows, leaned away so she could make a show of looking at him, and then settled back into place with those sharp eyes back on the Tafford. “Uh, have you seen him?”

The man just gave her a frosty smile.

“I don’t know, doc. One thing I like best? Can people actually answer that about their spouse? Like, do you actually get decent answers?”

“Occasionally.”

“I like _him_. I like that he’s patient with me and he treats me like I can do anything I want. I like that he watches silly movies with me and doesn’t complain because he wants me to be happy. I like that he’s nice to people even though people haven’t been that nice to him. I like that he makes me feel safe and that I can trust him with my life.”

“You like him? Just like?” Tafford said, latching onto that one word.

Darcy narrowed her eyes in distrust. “Don’t twist my words. You asked me what I liked most about him, so I phrased it that way. If I didn’t love him, then I wouldn’t have married him. That’s a given.”

“And you, Sergeant Barnes? What do you like most about Darcy?”

She squeezed his thigh right above the knee. It felt supportive, a little touch to tell him that he had this. “She’s the best person I know. Giving and caring and smart. Being around her makes me feel like I can do anything.”

“She’s been very understanding of your situation,” Tafford said.

“His situation?” Darcy asked. Her tone said the doctor should tread lightly.

“Well, yes,” he replied, gesturing with his hand at both of them. “He’s been a fugitive for years, accused of many assassinations while working with a terrorist organization.”

“Excuse _you_,” she snapped. She took her hand off his leg and leaned forward. Bucky let her go, not even attempting to hold her back with his arm around her shoulders. “He was captured, tortured, and held as a prisoner of war for decades. The torture and some really fucked up technology turned him into that terrorist organization’s little robot until he was able to get away long enough to figure out what had happened. And honestly, dude, we wouldn’t be here if your bosses actually thought that garbage was true. If you’re trying to get a rise out of him, then it won’t work. If you’re trying to get a rise out of me, then congratulations. I’m pretty pissed off now.”

Tafford dropped his gaze to the floor as Darcy settled back into the cradle of Bucky’s arm, shifting to make herself more comfortable. “I apologize, Mrs. Barnes, but I am going to have to ask some uncomfortable questions.”

“Well, let’s just keep it to _uncomfortable questions_ and cut out all those insults you’ve been serving. What do you want to know?”

“It really doesn’t—”

“No, no,” she insisted. “Let’s hear it. You want to know how he feels about his past? Really bad, guilty, responsible even though he isn’t. How do I feel about his past? That he was a hero and then a victim _twice_. Once when HYDRA tortured him and used his skills against his will. Twice when the American government decided to abandon their own damn war hero because they thought he might be a public relations nightmare.”

“Mrs. Barnes, I don’t think it was just a public relations concern that—”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “So, what else? What details did you want to know? Hit me with another uncomfortable question.”

“I think that’s quite enough for this session,” Tafford said, adjusting his glasses. He flipped the notebook clothes and tucked it away in his briefcase.

“Oh, to be continued. Wonderful,” she said, sarcasm lacing her tone. “Maybe next time you can invade our privacy a little more. An hour earlier and we would’ve been naked. That enough for you?”

“You know,” the man said, directing his comment at Bucky, “I thought you’d be the more difficult one to handle during this interview.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk as he tilted his head in Darcy’s direction. “She’s got a mind of her own, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yes, I see that.” Tafford stood and nodded at them both. “I’ll see myself out. Mrs. Barnes, I regret to inform you that I’ve been charged with paying you visits during at least the first three months your husband will be residing in the country. No amount of attitude or combative behavior on your part will cease these visits.”

“Then don’t insinuate my husband is a turncoat assassin when we both know he isn’t,” she said from her spot under Bucky’s arm.

Tafford took a step back and nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you both soon.”

Bucky watched him walk down the hall and exit. As soon as the door shut, she opened her mouth and he clamped his right hand down over it before she could get a word out. Darcy’s eyes went wide and her gaze shifted back and forth across the room. She watched as Bucky untangled himself from her warm body and retrieved Shuri’s small invention that detected audio and visual devices. He found it affixed underneath the seat of the other chair.

Crushing the device between the thumb and forefinger of his cybernetic hand, Bucky walked over to the window. He opened it just enough to toss the damaged listening device to the street below before spending the next ten minutes searching the apartment for a second device. After two passes, he was satisfied that the one and only mic had been found and destroyed.

“We’re clear,” he said, turning around to look at Darcy. She was still sitting in the middle of the couch, hands in her lap and looking nervous.

“Ummmm, was it a good idea to destroy it? Now they know we know they’re spying?”

Bucky shrugged. “Even if this was real, we wouldn’t want them listening in on us. They can’t actually believe I wouldn’t look for a device.”

“Right. Right, right, right. You’re right,” Darcy said, standing up and pacing in front of the couch. “Fuck those guys. They think they can just listen to us and shit. Ugh!”

He smiled as he watched that steely facade crumble. Just minutes before, she had ripped into Tafford when he’d said anything remotely bad about Bucky. Now, she was talking to herself as she paced the floor, worried over some bug the good doctor had hastily affixed under the seat of the armchair while he and Darcy had been getting dressed. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. They’re going to expect me to destroy that. And they’ll try again until we say something. And even then, they’ll probably still try.”

“So, we’re just going to have to watch our backs? Even in our own home?”

His smile this time was bitter, humorless. “Every single time. Welcome to my world. I’m sorry you’re mixed up in it.”

“I don’t know how you live like this. I want to murder that guy for being so… so…”

“Murdering that guy would probably be a bad idea. You’re too pretty to go to jail.”

She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say seemed to dissipate as a blush crept over her cheeks. “You’re right. No murdering.” She threw herself back on the couch and looked up at him. “Do you think I did okay? Were we believable?”

“You did amazing, sweetheart,” he told her, meaning every word of it.

Darcy fiddled with the button on the cuff of her oversized dress shirt. “I figured the best defense was a good offense. You know, throw him off his game. Attack first. I mean, I was thinking… How would I feel if you were my husband for real and some guy was trying to throw shade or whatever? I’d be pretty fucking pissed. My dad always says I let people walk all over me but that I’d never let that happen to someone I love, which is, like, irritatingly accurate. So, if I loved you then…”

Bucky felt that weight on his chest and that twist in his stomach when she trailed off on that last phrase. If she loved him… He’d be a lucky guy if someone like her loved him. If _she_ loved you, he corrected himself.

She rubbed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath instead of finishing her statement.

“You were perfect. I wish I had done as well.”

“Oh, you did,” she said quickly. “That felt pretty real and I’m in on the secret, so… I think we’re okay. The more I think about it, the more I think we’re okay.” She stood up and held her right hand up, palm facing him. “Good job, team.” When he stared back, she rolled her eyes and said, “High five, dude.”

Bucky felt awkward as he lifted his hand and lightly touched her palm with his. “My arm…” He trailed off, cleared his throat, and started again. “My arm don’t bother you, does it?”

“What?” She looked confused.

“My left arm around you just now. It didn’t bother you, did it?”

“No. No! Don’t be silly, Bucky. Did I bother you?”

“Bother me?”

She raised her brows. “Sitting close, touching your leg? I know we need to do that shit for show or whatever, but I can limit it if it makes you un—”

“No,” he said a bit too eagerly, cutting her off. “No, sweetheart. You were fine. Nothing made me uncomfortable.”

“Good, good.” Darcy pressed her lips together and looked around the cozy apartment before settling on the kitchen. “Okay. What about pancakes to celebrate? We’ve got the first meeting under our belt and we didn’t fuck it up, so that’s… awesome. We deserve blueberry pancakes.”

He didn’t want to appear too eager, but what she’d just described sounded delicious. “Okay.”

Darcy flashed him a smile. “Yeah? Sounds like you might like pancakes.”

“I might. Ain’t had one in years.”

“How many years?” she asked, making her way past him to the kitchen.

Bucky pulled a face and said, “Well, maybe… seventy-five, eighty?”

“Bucky!” she yelled over her shoulder in surprise. “I’m gonna make you, like, a triple serving. Do you eat as much as Rogers? I thought they were going to shut the buffet down that night I had dinner with him and Sam and Nat.”

“I could eat whatever you wanna make me,” he told her, walking over to sit on a stool at the breakfast bar. He liked watching her move around in the kitchen. It was like she was dancing, turning this way and that to pull ingredients out of the pantry and the fridge, opening drawers to find utensils and bowls.

Darcy sat a container of blueberries on the counter. “Coming right up, babe,” she told him with a wink. He’d started the day feeling terrible after a long and mostly sleepless night of nightmares. Seeing her pad out of the bedroom in her pajamas looking like she’d lost sleep because he couldn’t get his head on straight had made him feel even worse. Tafford showing up with his beady eyes and notebook was the icing on an already shitty morning. And yet somehow she had turned it around. Somehow he’d gotten through that interview unscathed and was now smiling at her as she made him breakfast. Somehow all that anxiety in his gut had stilled. It wasn’t gone, but she had a way of calming it. Bucky had no idea how she managed it with such grace, how she made things better without ever even appearing to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up tomorrow? Darcy gets a new job and maybe even a little kiss. Tune (surf) in to find out. :-)


	13. Chapter 13

> _”I hate to talk like this. I hate to act as if there’s something wrong that I can’t say. I have this dream at night, almost every night. I’ve been dreaming it forever, it’s easy to remember it. It’s always cold, it’s always day. You’re always here, you always say I’m alright, I’ll be okay if I can keep myself awake.” - Black Lab (Keep Myself Awake)_

**[July 16, 2018, 2:58pm]**

Darcy had a job she was woefully underqualified for. Actually, she had _two_ jobs she was underqualified for. The first one was being a wife to Bucky Barnes, hottest man alive, who swung from being cold and distant to playful and friendly with no warning at all. Darcy suspected his foul attitude in the mornings had more than a little to do with those night terrors he had. They’d been living together for about a week and she’d spent time almost every night standing in the doorway of the bedroom wondering at what point she should try to wake him from the flailing as he made hoarse cries for help. It broke her heart to see him like that and it hurt even more when he sat up, looking he was going to lose his dinner on the floor and glanced at her with haunted eyes. He didn’t like that she saw what he was going through, so she tried not to run out there every time he was having an episode. It was difficult to ignore it, though.

The second job was new—one she had started earlier that day after they’d given her some sort of laminated badge with her name and photo to hang around her neck. She was working out of Stark Tower, which was a twenty-minute walk from the apartment she shared with Bucky. Taking the subway was an option, but it didn’t shave that much time off her commute.

“You’re our media liaison,” Nat had explained.

Darcy had widened her eyes. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Nat had responded with an enigmatic smile and, “You field requests for interviews and information. The goal is to make everyone feel like they got what they wanted without giving them any actual information that isn’t public knowledge and without them actually talking to any of us.”

When Nat had put it like that, Darcy had realized maybe she was semi-qualified. She was the buffer. It was a role she knew all too well. Protect someone or, in this case, the Avengers from the outside world. She got an office, a fancy new cell phone with her old number ported over to it, and a credit card for official business. A year ago she’d have been hard-pressed to get one credit card. Now she had Steve’s and some mysterious card that was maybe linked to a government entity and maybe linked to Stark Industries and maybe linked to a shell corporation owned by aliens. Who knew? Certainly not Darcy.

The office had a window that gave her a view of the building across the street, which had provided her with some amusement already since the guy on the twenty-eighth floor seemed to enjoy jerking off with his door shut. Her physical inbox on the corner of the desk had a pile of folders and letters an inch thick in it already. Her email inbox had contained forty-seven unread messages that morning. She had two left to address, but she was letting them go as she rifled through the paperwork. Most were letters requesting interviews with one or more of the Avengers. Steve was popular; most people wanted to talk to the elusive Captain America. Darcy didn’t know him all that well, but she knew anyone looking for an interview with him was barking up the wrong tree. Steve was a lot of action and not much talk. Not that he was rude; he just didn’t strike her as the type to talk about himself.

She sorted the requests into piles—blow off, put off, suck up. She’d deal with the suck up pile first thing in the morning. Those people were from CNN, Fox News, the Post, the Times. They were people who had a large base of viewers or readers and a significant amount of sway with the public. Blow off people were conspiracy theorist wackjobs who wanted someone to validate them. Everyone in the middle fell under put off. Although, Darcy did think some of the suck up pile should probably cross over into the blow off pile if only the wackos had fewer viewers.

“How’s it going?” Natasha asked from the doorway.

Darcy nearly jumped out of her seat. “Shit! You’re like a ninja. Stop sneaking up on me.”

Nat smiled. “What are the piles for?”

She explained her system to the other woman.

“I like it,” Nat said. “You’re a natural.”

“I was a little worried I was in over my head until you explained it. Then I realized that I’ve been training my whole life for this. I’m a professional buffer between you guys and the world.”

“Your entire life?”

Darcy shrugged. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you one day.”

Nat gave her a kind smile and nodded.

Realization set in that she was talking to a master spy. “I have a file, don’t I?” Darcy asked. “I have a file and you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Yes and yes,” Nat said. “You don’t have to explain, though.” Instead of waiting for Darcy to cave and tell her anyway, Natasha sat down and said, “ How are things going with Bucky?”

“Good some of the time. Okay some of the time. He’s watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer with me. We’re already into season three and it’s been less than a week. I told him that he should watch it while I’m here today, but he said he’d wait for me. So, I guess I have a date with my faux husband tonight.”

Nat nodded. “I hear the meeting with Philip Tafford went well.”

“Who did you hear that from?”

“Well, I surmised,” Nat replied. “I obtained a copy of Tafford’s official report that was filed with the D.O.D Avengers oversight committee. He’s convinced you and Bucky are for real. And he says you’re a bigger problem than Barnes.”

“Excellent,” Darcy said, perking up. “I wanted to take the heat off him. Best defense is a good offense, right? All those hours I put into drama club are paying off.”

“I was surprised he wasn’t just a little suspicious, to tell you the truth. I was worried Barnes was going to be awkward with you.”

“He was great. Just touchy enough to sell it.”

“Touchy?” Nat asked, raising her brows.

Darcy could feel her cheeks coloring again. “Not _that_ touchy. Just an arm around my shoulders, a hand on my back. Tame, married-couple shit. We weren’t dry humping on the couch or anything.”

“Maybe next time,” Nat said, her tone dry.

“If only…” Darcy replied.

Nat laughed softly. “I’m glad you like him. It makes the situation easier.”

“Or harder. I might be kinda bummed when I find myself a divorcee.”

“Yeah? You think you might miss him?”

“I know I’ll miss him. Which is, like, crazy, right? I’ve known him for a week. I get too attached. I always get too attached. Why do I do this to myself?”

“Sounds like the feeling is mutual,” Nat said.

Darcy looked up to meet her eyes. “Mutual? How would you know that?”

“Steve said Bucky brought you to his place for baseball.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. I’m like a security blanket, I think.” She pushed down the little spark of a thrill that had ignited at Nat’s suggestion of Bucky being in any way attached to her.

“Steve said Bucky had his eyes on you the entire time.”

Darcy snorted. “I don’t know how Steve knows that since Steve had his eyes glued to the television screen the entire time.” There was that pulse of excitement over a boy possibly liking her back. It irritated her that she couldn’t get rid of it. “Whatever. It’s nothing. It’s business.”

Nat nodded, but the smirk on her face said she didn’t really agree. What did she know? She’d only seen Bucky interact with Darcy a couple of times. Nat was probably just messing with her head.

* * *

**[July 16, 2018, 5:39pm]**

Now that she’d been added to the system, Darcy deactivated the lock with her fingerprint. She expected to walk into the room and find Bucky reading on her Kindle or watching television or maybe even—hopefully—napping on the couch. Instead, she found him standing by the window and looking at one of the chairs a few feet away. For a brief moment, she wondered why he looked so strange, and then the pieces fell into place as she realized General Ross was seated in the chair. The sight made her stomach drop into her feet.

“Hey, babe,” she said, directing her attention at Bucky. “What’s going on?”

“General Ross stopped by,” he said, nodding at the other man.

“General,” she said, inclining her head at him as she sat the groceries on the kitchen counter. She walked around the breakfast bar and into the living area. “Didn’t know we ranked high enough on the list of important things to merit a visit from you.”

The man gave her a smile that looked both warm and predatory. Maybe she shouldn’t have pissed him off a week ago when he’d been delaying the meeting to make Steve and company squirm. “We’re taking a significant risk allowing your husband in the country, Mrs. Barnes. I wanted to speak to him myself and make sure he’s settling in nicely.”

She needed to do something. Bucky looked uncomfortable and anxious. His eyes kept shifting back and forth like he was looking for an escape that wasn’t there. Darcy walked across the room toward him. “Risk? That’s ridiculous,” she told Ross before stepping up to Bucky and bracing a hand on his left shoulder so she could go up on her tiptoes to place a fake kiss right next to his mouth. If Bucky cooperated, then Ross wouldn’t even realize she hadn’t actually kissed her husband’s lips since her back would be to him.

Bucky cooperated and then some. He dipped his head down and tilted it so her peck landed squarely on his mouth. Her aim had been for his cheek, but Bucky seemed to have other ideas. The touch was brief, barely-there. She tried to keep her composure as she whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, lips barely moving. His voice wasn’t very convincing, but the gentle press of his fingertips on her hip was more reassuring.

“Missed you,” she said loud enough for Ross to hear.

“Missed you more,” he whispered back. He let her be the one to step back and break the connection.

Darcy turned around to face Ross again. “Are you staying for dinner? I picked up stuff for baked ziti. Bucky’s the chef tonight.”

He gave her that slimy smile again. “I’m afraid I can’t. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Right,” Darcy said, eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what game he was running. “You want me to show you out or do you know the way?”

“I know the way,” Ross said as he stood. He took two steps towards the door before turning around and leveling his gaze on Bucky. “Give what I said some thought, Barnes.”

Bucky’s only response was a pained grimace that might have been classified as a smile if he hadn’t looked like he wanted to die of anxiety.

“What are we thinking about?” she asked.

Ross shook his head. “Business,” he told her before turning to walk down the hallway. After three beats, she heard the door open and then shut.

“Bucky?” she asked him, dipping her head so she could catch his downcast gaze.

He shook his head and sat down in the chair that hadn’t been occupied. She needed to sweep for listening devices before she opened her big mouth and said anything that could reveal the true nature of her relationship with Bucky Barnes. She found Shuri’s little device in his bag in the closet and swept the apartment with it, finding nothing.

“Am I doing this right?” she asked him.

Bucky looked up, eyes wide but vacant. It took him a moment to register her question and what she was doing. “Yeah, sweetheart. You’re doing great. He didn’t leave anything. I was with him the entire time.”

Walking over to stand next to his chair, she said, “What did he want?”

He shook his head in answer.

“Tell me or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help either way. He just… he wanted me to sit down with some intelligence people and give them all the info I have on HYDRA.”

“You don’t owe him anything.”

Bucky furrowed his brows. “I think I need to do this, though. It’s just… not something I want to do.”

“Then don’t do it.”

“I need to. If I can help… They’re going to kill more people, Darcy. If something I say can…” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. When his head dropped, the loose hair fell forward and hung on either side of his face, obstructing her view.

Without much thought, she reached out and pushed it back. The touch made him look up at her. “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to,” she said.

“I need to do this. I do.” His voice was firm and his eyes were on the coffee table. A white business card was lying there with General Thaddeus Ross in raised navy blue letters across the front. In the blank space at the bottom was a phone number scrawled in black pen.

“Okay,” she replied. “And you’re sure he’s not pulling some switcharoo?”

“What?”

“You’re sure he isn’t trying to pull a fast one and trick you into doing something to incriminate yourself or… whatever.”

“They know the worst of it, sweetheart. Steve said the contract is solid. Nothing I did during those years can be used against me.”

She nodded. “Okay. Okay. You want me to go with you? Tell me the date and time when you get it scheduled.”

“Sweetheart, you got your own life. You don’t need to—”

“I’m your wife, right? I’m here to support you.”

He winced. “I can do this.”

“I know you can. I’m just saying you don’t have to do it alone.”

“I want to,” replied right away.

Darcy pressed her lips together and held her hands up. “Okay. Just… You’ll tell me if me going would make you feel better, right?”

“Yeah, doll. Yeah, I’ll tell you.” His eyes focused on her for the first time since Ross had left. “How was your first day?”

Darcy smiled at him. “Good, I guess. I was worried I was in over my head, but I think I can make it work. They want me to field requests for interviews and help with P.R. shit.”

“You’ll be perfect at it. You could do anything you want and you’d be perfect,” Bucky told her. The way he looked into her eyes when he said it made Darcy feel like he actually meant it. To have someone like him tell her that he believed she could do pretty much anything made Darcy feel flustered and giddy.

“Thanks, Bucky. For now, I’m focusing on making our perfect dinner.”

When she turned to walk towards the kitchen, he stopped her with, “Wait. I thought you said I was cooking tonight.”

Darcy furrowed her brows and then laughed. “Oh. To Ross? I just said that as part of the game, the act.”

“I want to make dinner. Would you show me?” He stood to follow her into the kitchen. She tried not to drool as he walked over. He was in a pair of track pants and a thin, white tee. His hair was loose around his shoulders, and he looked like a dream as he walked past her to rifle through the two bags of groceries she’d brought home.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. It’ll be easy.” She tried not to look at his ass as she stepped up behind him.

* * *

**[July 16, 2018, 6:42pm]**

She giggled as he nearly dropped the entire glass casserole dish filled with baked ziti on the floor. Darcy was two very large glasses into a bottle of red wine she’d picked up on a whim. Bucky declined alcohol in favor of water, but he’d still been willing to make dinner. She’d been afraid Ross’s visit would send him down one of those spirals that his nightmares did. Instead of being withdrawn and cold after the General left, Bucky had shaken that anxiety off quickly and set to follow her instructions on how to prepare baked ziti. She was sitting at the bar, watching him maneuver around the kitchen awkwardly. His ass looked fantastic in the track pants, though. It was a really nice view.

“You’re lucky you have that indestructible vibranium hand or we’d be eating off the floor,” she told him when he set the dish on the stovetop.

“You’re making me nervous,” he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Darcy scoffed. “Me? How the hell am I making you nervous?”

“You keep staring at me like I’m doing something wrong.”

“I’m staring at you because you’re nice to look at. Don’t worry; you’re doing everything right.” Her cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol so her brazen attempt at flirting didn’t manifest in a hot pink blush across her face.

His back was to her, but he stopped for a moment, hands braced on the counter and head hanging low. He exhaled a sharp breath of laughter before shaking his head.

Darcy hopped off the stool to join him in the kitchen. “Cut the bread into thick slices.”

He did exactly as she told him with the bread knife she’d laid on the counter while Darcy searched through the cabinets until she found a shallow dish. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching her pour a generous amount of olive oil in the dish and crack some pepper on top of it.

“It’s to dip the bread in. You can’t have pasta without fresh Italian bread dipped in olive oil and pepper.”

She put the small saucer on the counter between the two stools they always sat in to eat dinner.

“How much do you want?” he asked her.

“Not a little, not a lot,” she said. “I need to eat something before I have another glass of wine or I’ll end up not wanting to do my second day at the new job.”

He plated their ziti and brought it over before returning with the plate of bread.

“This is nice,” she said, the wine loosening her tongue. She knew what she was saying, but the alcohol coursing through her made it seem not so crazy to tell him what she was thinking. “It’s almost like we’re a real married couple. I like it.”

“Yeah?” he asked, slipping onto the stool beside her and sticking a fork into the middle of her pasta.

“Mmm, hmm. It smells so good and you’re so… you.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m so me? What is that?”

“Just you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Noooo, no, no, no. It’s a good thing. The best thing. You’re great, amazing.”

“I don’t know about that…” Bucky said.

Darcy widened her eyes at him. “Dude, I wouldn’t want to be fake married for real to anyone else.”

He gave her a warm smile that made her stomach flutter. “Likewise, sweetheart.” He reached over and handed her a slice of bread. “Now, eat.”

Darcy pinched a piece of bread off the slice and swiped it through the olive oil. “Mmm, so good,” she told him after she’d eaten it.

Bucky did what she’d done and hummed his agreement.

“I was worried you’d be sad or upset after Ross left,” Darcy said. “If you’re trying to hide it from me, then you should know, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to think about that right now. Sometimes when I’m with you, I can forget about that stuff and just focus on better things. Like this bread.”

“And this ziti,” she added, her mouth full of food.

He nodded. “And this ziti.”

“And me,” Darcy joked with a wink.

“And you,” Bucky replied, not missing a beat.

Instead of responding, she shoved another forkful of pasta into her mouth. The doorbell almost made her inhale half of it. Before she had a chance to react, Bucky had moved to answer it. She listened, shoulders tense, as he pulled open the door and said something to the person who’d interrupted their dinner. A few seconds later, Bucky emerged from the short hallway with Steve trailing behind.

“You mind if Steve joins us for dinner?” Bucky asked.

She was relieved to see it wasn’t Ross or one of his minions coming to harass or threaten Bucky again. Even though she wasn’t really in the mood for company, her relief was so great, it was easy to say, “Nope. Pull up a stool, Rogers. The special tonight at Casa Barnes is baked ziti with the best Italian bread money can buy from that bakery two blocks down.”

* * *

**[July 16, 2018, 10: 47pm**

Steve had come by because he’d heard about the unexpected visit from Ross. He seemed to be just as surprised as Darcy at how easily Bucky had recovered from the encounter. She’d sat back and listened to the two of them talk like their friendship hadn’t skipped decades. By the time Darcy had sobered up, Steve and Bucky had been arguing over who would win in an arm-wrestling match. She’d been afraid if they actually tried to settle it with a match that the counter wouldn’t survive. Steve had left shortly after she’d expressed her concern about the safety of the marble countertop.

Once they were alone, Darcy and Bucky had settled down on opposite ends of the couch and watched two episodes of Buffy before she could barely keep her eyes open. She was drifting off to sleep with her chin on her chest when Bucky said, “If you fall asleep I’m going to carry you to bed.”

His comment pulled her back towards consciousness. “Promises, promises,” she told him before yawning and stretching her arms in the air.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked.

“Actually, I had a great day. Fancy job, fancy office with a view of some guy wanking on his lunch break, and—”

“What?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah. The guy in the building next to the office rubs one out on his lunch hour. It’s… disturbingly hilarious. He’s too far away to actually see his ween, but—”

“Doll, what the _fuck_?”

“No need to worry; he’s got nothing on my dear husband.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but didn’t want her to see. “And how would you know that?”

“Oh, just a feeling. Women can sense these types of things.”

Bucky raised his brows. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah. Ween-dar. Totally.”

He opened his mouth to reply but seemed to think better of it. Instead, he just looked up at the ceiling and laughed softly under his breath.

“Okay, okay. I’m going to bed before I drool on the couch and make a fool of myself.” She pushed herself up and retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen. “Can we start that episode over tomorrow since I dozed through the first ten minutes of it?”

“Sure,” he replied, watching her make her way to the bedroom. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t seem to get it out of his mouth.

“You okay, Bucky?” she asked from the doorway.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Darcy chewed on her lower lip for a moment before wishing him goodnight and closing the door. She tossed and turned for almost an hour before she fell asleep to the sound of an app on her phone that played ambient white noise. When she woke to a shout, the room was still dark. She sat up and heard a strangled cry in another language. The sound was all-too-familiar. It was Bucky having another nightmare.

Her heart sank as she held her breath and listened for more noise. He seemed to have quieted. Maybe the dream passed. She should have guessed he’d have nightmares tonight after Ross came by and started dredging up his past, making him feel guilty for not reliving it all during intensive interviews with the intelligence agencies.

She felt helpless because nothing she did seemed to help him at all. Her phone said it was half-past one in the morning. He could usually make it until three before they got so bad he woke up. She stayed in bed and held her phone up above her head, browsing through her Instagram account, answering a couple of messages from Jane, and eventually downloading and browsing an app that allowed individuals to find vacation rentals posted by property owners.

She saw a gorgeous cabin on a lake in Michigan, and as she flipped through photos of it, Darcy thought about how nice it would be to get away with Bucky. Just the two of them, no one else. A secluded cabin, no Tafford, no Ross, no responsibilities. Like some strange version of a honeymoon they never got. A honeymoon you never got because you’re not really married to the man, she reminded herself.

Another guttural cry made her drop her phone, just barely missing her face. Darcy was out of bed and opening the bedroom door within a handful of seconds. Bucky was thrashing on the couch with the sheet he’d been using wrapped around his legs. She could see the tendons in his neck straining as he pressed his head back and arched his back. “No, nooooo…” he moaned, movements jerky and clipped.

Darcy couldn’t stand to see him struggle. Against her better judgment, she padded over and knelt down on the floor next to where he was lying on the couch. She didn’t dare touch him, but she did say, “Hey, it’s me. It’s Darcy. You’re okay, Bucky. You’re safe here with me in our apartment. We’re in New York City and no one is trying to hurt you. I won’t let them. Please wake up, Bucky. Please?”

His brows furrowed and he opened his mouth in a voiceless scream.

“Bucky, I’m here. It’s okay. We’re safe. Everything is fine. You’re having a—”

She stopped talking when he gasped and sat up on the couch, eyes shifting here and there. “Hey,” she whispered, holding up a hand to calm him. “You’re okay. Everything is okay.”

“No, it’s not,” he muttered, rubbing a hand roughly over his face.

“Why don’t you go sleep in the bed? Trade me.”

“No,” he said, voice flat.

“Then sleep in there with me.”

He fell back onto the couch and sighed. “I might hurt you in my sleep.”

“I don’t think you would.”

“I’ve done a lot of bad things, doll. Killing someone in my sleep would fit in with everything else. Wouldn’t even be out of fucking place.”

“You’re not going to kill me,” she told him, no question in her mind that she was right.

He threw an arm over his eyes. “I—I just can’t, sweetheart. I can’t.”

Her heart ached for him. “Can I help you? Get you anything?”

“No. Just… go back to sleep. I’ll try not to wake you again.”

“Bucky—”

“Please, Darcy. Please. Just… go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow? Even more domestic bliss.


	14. Chapter 14

> _”You live your life, you go in shadows. You’ll come apart and you’ll go blind. Some kind of night into your darkness, colors your eyes with what’s not there.” - Mazzy Star (Fade Into You)_

**[July 18, 2018, 7:58am]**

“It’s just down the block,” she told him. “Just breakfast and back.”

Bucky shook his head and sank lower into the couch. “I’ll make you late for work.”

“I don’t actually have a boss. And if I do, then I haven’t met them. Plus, no one told me anything about hours as long as I get the work done. You haven’t been out of this building in over a week. We don’t even have to eat there. It’ll take fifteen minutes. My phone says it’s seventy-two degrees, so you can enjoy the weather and get some fresh air.”

“No.” When her face fell, the guilt took over, making him say, “Sweetheart, please. Just… I need some time.”

“Steve is worried about you. So am I. At least in Wakanda you were doing things, talking to people.”

“I’m talking to you.”

Darcy looked defeated. “I know you are, but staying here and watching episodes of Buffy with me isn’t any kind of life.”

“They want me to go on missions,” he blurted out. As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted saying anything.

She took a step closer, her messenger bag still hanging off her shoulder since she’d been ready to step out the door when she’d asked him to get breakfast with her. “They can’t force you.”

“I know.” But you could help, you could make this easier for them, he told himself. You know how HYDRA works better than anyone.

Darcy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “What do you want to do, Bucky?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this… Is being back here in the country… Is that so hard for you?” Her voice was soft, sweet. Not accusatory or demanding. It was a real question and she wanted a real answer.

He looked at her shoes. They were red, high top Converse sneakers with white laces. He only knew this because Shuri had an affinity for American fashion, much to her mother’s irritation. He hadn’t talked to Shuri in days. It felt like his life was fragmented into so many pieces and he couldn’t seem to put the best pieces together. He didn’t know how to begin to take his friendship with Steve and the wonder of Wakanda and this tenuous domestic bliss with Darcy and build a life out of it while he used what skills he had to help make people safer and the world better.

“Wakanda was never… It never felt like real life. Everything was different. The people, the culture, the technology, the land—all if it was different than my life before HYDRA. And it was all the exact opposite of my time with HYDRA. No one there knew me or anything about me except for T’Challa and a few others. Even Shuri doesn’t know everything. I never told her because… because she liked me and I didn’t want to scare her away.”

When he dared to look up into her face, she gave him a little smile. There wasn’t happiness there, but there was support and kindness. Bucky shut his eyes so he couldn’t see her face when she looked at him like that. “You know,” she said, “you can start over here, too. If you want, that is.”

“I can’t. I’m… My past is here.”

“But it isn’t.”

“It _is_,” he replied, opening his eyes. “They bring it up every chance they can get. It’s the reason my contract with the government was different than all the others. It’s the reason I’m here with you. It’s the reason Ross came in here a couple of days ago looking for intel. It’s the reason Tafford came in here with questions about whether I was going to be a problem. Don’t you get it, sweetheart? They aren’t questioning our relationship; they’re questioning whether I’m a danger to the public. In Wakanda… In Wakanda, they let their children chase me around because I wasn’t… I didn’t have all this…” Bucky exhaled a shuddering breath.

“You’re right,” Darcy said. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m trying,” he promised.

Her eyes looked shiny, like maybe she going to cry. Just the thought that he’d made her feel that way felt like a punch to the gut. “I know you are,” she told him. “You do this in your own time, dude. Don’t let any of us make you feel like you need to move faster.”

He wanted to laugh out of frustration. “But I _do_ need to move faster. HYDRA has those fucking suits and they’re not going to put them on a shelf. It’s just a matter of time before—”

“HYDRA isn’t just your problem. They’re everyone’s problem. Honestly, I think Tony Stark feels the same as you—like they’re his problem. But they aren’t. No one feels that way but you two dummies.”

“They’re going to kill people, Darcy. They already have.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you thinking of taking Ross up on his offer?”

Bucky didn’t reply, didn’t tell her he’d called the man the day before when she’d been at work and made arrangements to meet. In the apartment, of course. If he could stay in the apartment, then he could continue to lie to himself that this wasn’t actually happening. He could continue to believe this was some odd fragmented dream of a life.

“You are, aren’t you?” Her voice had gone up a couple of octaves. “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? Are you sure he isn’t trying to trap you or use you?”

“Oh, he’s trying to use me. I know that,” Bucky told her. “I just want to be good for something other than killing. So… whatever. He can use me.”

“Bucky.” The way she said his voice broke his heart. He’d known her less than two weeks and she already held this power over him. It was her kindness, Bucky told himself. Kindness was lethal when all you knew was cruelty.

“Go to work,” he said. “I’ll be fine. We can have leftovers from last night and watch television when you get home.”

“Is that what you want to do?”

Bucky laughed softly under his breath. “Sweetheart, that’s _all_ I want to do.”

She looked at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed as if weighing his sincerity. “Season four isn’t as good,” she finally told him.

“I don’t care. We’ll watch whatever you want.”

* * *

**[July 18, 2018, 10:04am]**

“Darcy isn’t here,” Bucky told Dr. Tafford as they walked into the living area. His heart had jumped into his throat when the doorbell rang, wondering if Ross was back early with a group of agents behind him. Instead, it was Tafford on his own, briefcase in hand.

“Yes, I know,” Tafford said. “She’s quite a handful, your wife.”

Bucky watched as the man made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs and pulled out his notepad. “She wants to be left alone. And so do I.”

“I understand, Sergeant Barnes. I really do. However, I have been given an assignment which requires I verify the reality of your marriage and the stability of your mental state.”

Walking over to the window, Bucky looked down at the traffic several stories below. “And you weren’t able to do that in the last meeting?”

“Your wife is protective of you.”

It was the truth. Technically, she _was_ his wife and she was also very protective. What did she call it? She was the buffer between him and the world. “She is,” Bucky acknowledged when Tafford didn’t continue.

“Has it always been that way?”

“No,” he answered honestly. It was the truth and sticking as close to the truth as possible would be best.

“A recent development, perhaps?”

“Just since people like you have started bringing up my past, acting like that’s still me. She knows it bothers me.”

Tafford nodded slowly. “Ahh, I see. I apologize for these questions I must ask, then.”

“Just ask them.” Bucky stepped over to the couch and let himself fall back into the cushions.

“How are you adjusting to life here?”

“I’m fine.”

Tafford gave him a thin-lipped smile. “Have you been out of this apartment?”

“You tell me. I’m sure they’re keeping tabs on me.”

“We have to be cautious. I’m sure you can appreciate this. I can’t say whether you’ve left this apartment, but we suspect you haven’t left this building.”

“I haven’t,” Bucky confirmed.

“Why?”

He didn’t want to get into this with Tafford; he’d just gone through it all with Darcy two hours ago. “I just haven’t. The crowds bother me.”

“Crowds? Do they give you anxiety?”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to snap at the man. He needed to keep his cool, not give them any reason to go back on their deal. “A bit. I just feel better when I’m alone.”

“How do you find living with Darcy? You haven’t actually lived together before now, correct?”

“We spent time together when she visited Wakanda. She’d stay with me. It’s not that different.”

Tafford jotted something down. “But you don’t find being around her to trigger that anxiety?”

“No, of course not.” The reply was quick and easy because it was true.

“When did you know you were in love with her?”

Bucky closed his eyes. How should he answer it? He needed to think fast because the longer he took, the more suspicious it would look. “That’s a little private, don’t you think?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality,” Tafford told him. “Your answer won’t leave this room.”

“She wrote me a letter. A real one on paper with a pen in her own handwriting. It was after our first date. We’d talked over the phone after she’d left.”

“What was it about, the letter?”

He shrugged. “Nothing in particular. It was just… nice. It was more effort than I’d expected from someone who didn’t know me very well. Definitely more effort than I’d expected after she’d found out about my past.”

“How did she find out about your past?”

“I suspect Steve told her.”

Tafford raised his brows. “You didn’t tell her?”

The question irritated Bucky. “I’ve talked to her about it, but I didn’t recite a list of my transgressions. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“You trying to say I should have?”

“No. It sounds like she knows everything. Do you have a difficult time discussing that part of your past?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Smiling, Tafford said, “I’m sure anyone would. Are you afraid of rejection if she were to hear it from your mouth?”

“No,” Bucky said, his answer firm.

“You sound quite confident in your answer.”

“I am,” he replied. “She knows everything and she’s still with me. She still defends me, even though I’ve never asked her to.”

“That must make you feel good,” Tafford said.

“She makes me feel good. She makes me feel like I can do this.” Another easy answer because it wasn’t even stretching the truth.

“Do what, exactly?”

“This. Talk to you. Live here in Manhattan. Take my life back.” Bucky paused and added, “Fight HYDRA.”

This resulted in Tafford lifting his brows again in surprise. “Fight HYDRA?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know I called Ross yesterday and agreed to meet with his men. I’ll give them everything I have.”

“And missions? Will you be going on those as well?”

Bucky opened his mouth, but he had no answer prepared. Instead, he pressed his lips together and looked away from Tafford, his gaze skipping over the apartment and settling on Darcy’s sandals in the corner. “Maybe,” he said. “Probably. I can’t let other people fight my battles for me.”

“Is this your battle, Sergeant Barnes?”

“They spent years torturing me, experimenting on me, using me to do their dirty work. All this blood on my hands… that’s their fault. I might have been the gun, but they pulled the trigger. It took me a long time to accept that.”

Tafford nodded, making another note. “So, you want revenge?”

“I want to make things right. I don’t want them to have the chance to ever do what they did to me to anyone else.”

“That’s quite admirable, Sergeant Barnes. When did you make this decision?”

Bucky shook his head and looked away again. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I’ve decided anything. I just… don’t want them to hurt anyone else. If I can… If I can help then…”

“What if you die trying?”

“Then I die trying,” he replied, looking at Darcy’s sandals again. They were gold and silver with little straps here and there, looking so complicated he didn’t even know how she put them on. He just remembered they’d looked pretty with the straps climbing up to wrap around her ankles when she’d come home yesterday.

“And your wife? Are you concerned about her if you die trying?”

The question felt like a punch right to his gut. He knew Darcy cared about him, but she’d move on if he died. It wasn’t like she was actually his wife beyond that little piece of paper that made it legal. Except, he couldn’t say that right now. “She’s strong, independent. She’ll be okay.”

“Do you think she’d remarry?”

Bucky looked up at Tafford. “What?”

Tafford’s beady little eyes were sharp, assessing him. “Do you think Darcy would remarry?”

“What kind of question is that?” The idea of her marrying some other guy made Bucky feel sick to his stomach, which was ludicrous because that’s probably exactly what would happen. They’d get through this year, make a show of separating, and then she’d file for divorce. He’d have his freedom back completely and she’d walk away with her debts wiped out courtesy of Tony Stark’s bank account for some fucked up reason.

“A relevant one. You don’t seem too perturbed about the prospect of dying.”

“I’ve spent my entire life on the verge of dying. You get numb to it after a while. If you’re asking me if I don’t care about leaving my wife then you can go fuck yourself. I don’t want to leave her and I hope I don’t have to. I don’t want to think about her with another man, but if something happens to me I…”

“You?”

“I’d want her to be happy. To be loved. To be respected.”

“Like you love and respect her?”

“Of course,” he told Tafford.

“You think someone could do as good of a job?”

He snorted. “No, but… No.” Bucky focused on her sandals as he said, “I’m not suicidal. I’m not trying to go in guns blazing and get myself killed. I don’t even know if I can… do that without flashbacks.”

“Are you concerned you’ll revert back to your programming?”

“No. I trust Shuri. If she said it’s gone then it’s gone. I can’t even imagine going back to that.”

Tafford scribbled something down and closed his notebook. Glancing at his wristwatch, he said, “I’m afraid our time is up. It was a pleasure speaking with you today, Sergeant Barnes. Please give your wife my regards.”

Bucky remained seated while the man stood and gathered his things. “You want me to leave the room so you can hide a bug in here again?” he asked.

Tafford froze as he was closing his briefcase. With a nervous laugh, he said, “I was acting under orders.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“They weren’t happy you found and destroyed it. It was top of the line, very expensive.”

“Then you’d better not waste any more of them. Don’t want it coming out of your pay, right?”

Tafford gave him a placating smile. “Right. No bugs today, Sergeant Barnes. We know it would be a waste of resources since you obviously have the ability to find and destroy them. I think you’ll find us to be quite practical.”

Bucky watched him walk over to the hallway that ran past the kitchen towards the door. Tafford’s shoes tapped across the tile. A moment later, the door opened and closed. Before he did anything else, Bucky swept the apartment for bugs but found none. He didn’t trust Tafford for a minute. They wouldn’t give up on gathering information about him and Darcy so easily.

* * *

**[July 18, 2018, 5:29pm]**

He was watching old episodes of a television program called The X-Files when he heard the door open. She came down the hall with a strange look on her face. When he opened his mouth, her eyes widened and Darcy pressed an index finger to her lips to silence him.

“Hey, babe,” she said. “It’s so disgusting out there with the humidity. I need a shower, stat.” She pointed at her purse that was clutched under her shoulder before putting it on the coffee table.

“How was work?” he asked, raising his brows in question.

“Good. I think I’ve got a natural talent for convincing people they got what they wanted even though they didn’t. It’s a very specific skill set, and I might have found a job built to exploit it.”

Darcy pointed at her ear and then at the purse, confirming his suspicions. Now the question was, how did they do it? How had she found out about it? Had she said anything compromising before realizing she was bugged? And how should they get rid of it? Searching the apartment after a visit was one thing, but searching her purse each afternoon would appear just a little too paranoid.

“You’d be amazing at anything you wanted to do, sweetheart,” he said, pausing the show and getting up to approach her.

“Are you trying to talk your way into my pants, Sergeant?” she asked, giving him a sweet, slightly embarrassed look as she shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m trying to talk my way into that shower you said you needed,” he said, nodding toward the bathroom.

She giggled and took a step back. “Only because I like that thing you do with your tongue and the pulsing jet on the showerhead.”

Bucky’s laugh was genuine, but he let it drag out for the sake of their audience. “I’ve been thinking about that thing all day, actually,” he said, following her into the bathroom.

Pressing his index finger over his lips just as she’d done, he shut the door and turned on the water in the stall. Her wide eyes looked from him to the running water and back again like she was wondering if he actually was going to take a shower with her. Bucky exhaled a shuddering breath just thinking about getting her naked and wet, touching her with his hands. Inappropriate.

He stepped closer in the small room, backing her up against the vanity. “We have to be very quiet just in case the device you think is in your purse is sensitive.” His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he bent down and whispered the words.

“Someone bumped into me on my way home. I got paranoid and checked my bag. It’s this little circular thing. I don’t know what it is, but it kinda looked like the one you found under the chair.”

“You did so good, sweetheart. So good,” he murmured, squeezing her shoulders. Bucky wondered how many people in her life underestimated her. Probably every single damn one.

She looked up at him, all wide-eyed. “I didn’t know what to do. Throwing it out would look paranoid, right?”

He nodded. “Right.”

“And that might look suspicious.”

“Right,” Bucky agreed again. “You did the right thing. You were perfect.”

“What do we do now? We’re supposed to be having sex in the shower.”

“We stay here for a few minutes. Then we go out in the living room and talk about your day. You look in your bag for something you want to show me and find the bug. You pretend like you don’t know what it is and show me. I’ll destroy it. You can raise hell with Tafford or Ross or whoever you want next time we see them.”

“You think it was them?”

“I know it was them. Tafford was here to see me today.”

“Me, too.”

Bucky felt his blood, which had been running a little hot since he’d imagined her naked in the shower stall, turn into ice. “He did?”

“Yeah, asking about you. About when I knew you were the one and what I think about your past. Do you think he was checking on our story?”

“He asked me the same things,” he admitted. “He probably thinks we’re easier to get info out of when we’re separate. If it happens again, try not to say anything that—”

“I know, I know,” she whispered. “I’m not going to say anything we haven’t agreed on. I don’t want him to fact check me about shit that we don’t have our story straight on yet.”

* * *

**[July 19, 2018, 2:54am]**

She was bleeding all over him. So much blood. Her eyes were lifeless even though her hands clutched his shoulders, begging him to do something. “No, please, please, please. Don’t, sweetheart. Please!” His voice sounded strange, distant, almost like an echo. Bucky gasped for air and pushed himself up. It took a moment for the scene in his nightmare to fade back into reality. He was in a dark room with windows looking out on Manhattan. Darcy was kneeling on the floor next to the couch just like she’d done a couple of nights before.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, pushing the sweaty strands of hair off his face.

She shifted until she was sitting with her back resting against the couch. “Just checking on you.”

“I’m fine.”

She lifted an arm and shoved her elbow back to poke his leg. “You’re not, but you will be one day. Did you always have nightmares?”

“Yes. Well, I did when I escaped. They got better. I hadn’t had them for months before… this.”

“It’s just a matter of time, then.” Her voice was so matter-of-fact, her faith in his ability to overcome it again so complete.

Instead of telling her he wasn’t so sure of that, Bucky swung his legs around so he was sitting properly on the couch. “Don’t sit on the floor. Come up here,” he told her.

Darcy shifted around and got to her feet before plopping down on the couch beside him. After a little more shifting in the dark, she pulled his sheet from beneath her and used it to cover both of them. “Do you think the discovery of the bug in my purse was believable?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“I don’t know how you haven’t gone crazy with paranoia if this is what you have to deal with. Now I see why Wakanda was probably like heaven to you. No one there was gunning for you.”

He laughed softly. “Pretty much.” The feel of her shoulder pressed against his was wonderful. The nightmare felt like a distant memory with the lovely distraction beside him.

“How do you like The X-Files?” she asked.

“It’s good. Strange, but… good. I like all that science fiction stuff.”

Darcy glanced over and smiled at him. “I never would have guessed you were a nerd on the sly.”

“I always have been. I worshipped Howard Stark when I was younger. It makes me sick to think I killed him. He was a fucking visionary.”

“He was definitely a smarty-pants,” she agreed. “But you shouldn’t blame yourself for any of that mess. I don’t have to tell you why, either.”

“I know,” he agreed. They sat in silence for a minute before Bucky said, “Why don’t you go back to bed, doll? You did your duty. I’ve got my head on straight for you.”

She yawned. “Why don’t you turn on X-Files where you left off. I’ll watch with you until I fall asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. To warn you, though, I usually fall asleep within twenty minutes. The X-Files is one of my comfort shows. I used to fall asleep to it all the time.”

He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the television. The blue glow lit up the room as he said, “You fall asleep, I’ll put you to bed.”

“Okay,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Mmm, hmm. Okay.” She sounded like she was already dozing off.

Bucky just smiled and hit the button to resume the show. Maybe he’d fall asleep, too. Maybe he wouldn’t have dreams if she was beside him. Maybe she was the antidote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all are great. Thank you so much for your wonderful comments. I love reliving this fic with you each day. Tomorrow? Darcy might like to read smutty romance novels on her Kindle. And Bucky might just find this out and start reading her favorites during all that free time he has.


	15. Chapter 15

> _”And rain falls angry on the tin roof as we lie awake in my bed. You’re my survival, you’re my living proof my love is alive and not dead.” - Edwin McCain (I’ll Be)_

**[July 19, 2018, 7:11am]**

She woke up in bed, but she was on the wrong side. She looked over at her spot; it was empty, unslept in. The previous night came back in a rush of memories—Bucky’s nightmare and their conversation, sitting next to him on the couch while he watched an episode of The X-Files, falling asleep on his shoulder. He’d told her he’d put her to bed if she dozed off. He must have made good on his promise.

Darcy pulled a robe over her pajamas but didn’t belt it before walking out in the living room. Bucky was sitting at the breakfast bar with her Kindle propped up against an overturned box of cereal. When he saw her, he put down the mug of coffee he’d been sipping.

“Did you make coffee this morning?” she asked, walking around him and into the kitchen. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her.

“It’s not as good as your coffee,” he warned her.

“Any coffee is good coffee,” she told him, pouring a mug and leaning on the counter across from him. “Turkish coffee is my jam, but it’s a pain in the ass to make. You have to actually pay attention instead of just hitting a button on a machine.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked her, eyes moving from the Kindle to her and back again.

“It’s so good. If you like coffee, you’ll love it. One day when I’m feeling less like a slug, I’ll make some for us. I just need to get the beans ground super fine.”

He smiled at her. “That’d be great, sweetheart.”

“Did you actually carry my ass to bed?”

He dropped his gaze like he was shy, but the grin stayed on his lips. It was a very becoming look on him. “Your ass and the rest of you,” he confirmed.

“You could have just poked me until I woke up, you know.”

“I know. But you looked so peaceful and I really didn’t mind. Did you?”

“Mind?” she asked. “No way.”

“Good.”

“Did you get any sleep last night, Bucky?”

He shrugged. “A couple hours after I put you to bed.”

“Why don’t you try the bed for a night or two? I don’t mind the couch.”

“I’m okay,” he insisted.

Darcy took a sip of her coffee. It was a little on the weak side, but beggars can't be choosers. “What are you reading?”

“One of your books,” he said.

Darcy froze, the mug halfway to her lips. Most of the books she had on the Kindle were romance novels. “Uh, what book?”

“The Wall of Winnipeg and Me,” he said. “It’s about a football player and his assistant.”

Darcy looked down at the counter and laughed softly. “It sure is. Before you get any further into this novel, though, I should tell you that it’s a, uh, a romance novel.”

“I could tell,” he told her. “Except, I’m already nine chapters in and they don’t even like each other.”

“It’s called a slow burn. The feelings take a while. Although, when they hit, they hit hard.” Darcy cleared her throat before taking another sip of her coffee. “I should probably also warn you that there is sex—like, graphic sex—towards the end. If that isn’t your thing, then you might want to turn back now.”

Bucky’s eyes lifted and his lips parted, but he didn’t reply immediately. He looked like he might be at a loss for words. “Graphic?”

“Yeah, like a play-by-play. I gotta admit, most of the books on my Kindle are of the same variety. Not that I don’t read other shit, but… romance bordering on erotica is often obtained and kept on an electronic device. I’m not about to sit in a laundromat reading a paperback with a half-naked man ripping his shirt off on the cover. You know?”

Bucky opened and closed his mouth twice before he said. “You, uh… You read that kinda stuff?”

She willed herself not to blush. The only saving grace was that he didn’t seem to think she was silly and he certainly wasn’t poking fun at her. He actually seemed intrigued. “Hey, I’m a modern fucking woman. I can read what I like. Romances are mindless fun and the sex is the cherry on top. If I’m not getting any, then I might as well read about it.”

Bucky dropped his eyes to the Kindle screen. “You could… If you were discreet, then you could find a guy to help you—”

“Bucky!” she exclaimed, shocked at his offer and cutting him off before he could fully form it. “I am not going to go bang some random dude. Gross.”

“It’s just… This is going to be a year and you shouldn’t have to suffer on my account.” He was very uncomfortable; she could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

Darcy sipped her coffee before she said, “I wasn’t getting any before you, so this isn’t anything new. Don’t worry. Reading about sex is almost as good as having it.”

He scoffed and laughed lightly under his breath.

“What?” she asked. “You don’t agree?”

“Can’t say I do. But I’ve never read about it so maybe I don’t know what I’m missing.”

Darcy pushed off the counter and said, “Don’t judge my e-book selection. I travel a lot and killing time with mindless romances is my escape from stress. You know, if you want to download a book more your speed, then you can. Just touch the Store icon and—”

“I’d like to finish this,” he assured her.

“Whatever floats your boat, dude,” Darcy replied. She needed to get dressed and get the hell out of the apartment before he got to the good stuff. Watching him glance from the screen to her and back again like he was doing now as he wondered what exactly she liked about the story made Darcy want to crawl into a hole.

* * *

**[July 19, 2018, 3:17pm]**

“Hey, can I come in?”

Darcy looked up from the request on her desk to see Steve Rogers standing in the doorway of her little office. One shoulder was pressed resting against the doorframe, but his eyes said the nonchalant stance was a fib.

“Yeah, of course. You don’t even need to ask, dude. You got me the job.” She waved him in, suddenly unaware of what to do with her stupid hands. She liked Steve and had even hung out with him and Bucky twice—one during that baseball game and once over dinner a couple of days before—but he still made her a little nervous. He was _Captain America_, after all.

Steve sat down in the chair across the desk from her, resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “I didn’t really get you the job; that was more Nat than me. How are things going, though?”

“Good. Figuring things out. I like it a lot. I should have gone into public relations instead of poli sci.”

He flashed a genuine, warm smile that was pretty breathtaking coming from a guy who looked like him. “I’m glad to hear you like it. You’ll be great.”

“Thanks.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “But what did you really come here for?”

This turned Steve’s smile into a chuckle. He dropped his gaze to the desk before looking up at her through his lashes. “How is Bucky doing?”

Darcy sighed. “Okay, I think. Good some days. Bad some days.”

“I’ve stopped by to check on him while you’re at work, but he won’t do anything.”

“Like go out of the building? Yeah, I know.”

“Some days he seems fine and others…”

Darcy nodded. “I’m not a doctor or therapist or anything, but I think he’s got some issues. PTSD, maybe depression. I just… I’m not… I don’t have the tools to help him with that. I can listen to him or whatever, but that only goes so far.”

“He jokes around with me on the good days. Sometimes I forget… Sometimes I forget all that shit happened,” Steve told her. “He doesn’t _seem_ depressed most of the time. He still has his sense of humor.”

She propped her head upon her hand, elbow resting on the top of her desk. “I read this interview with Ethan Hawke.” She paused and said, “You know who that is, right?”

“Actor?”

“Yeah, so I read this interview with him about playing Chet Baker in a biopic.”

Steve perked up. “I know about Chet Baker.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Of course you do. He’s an oldie. _Anyway_, Chet was, like, a drug user extraordinaire off and on through most of his life. He was super talented, but he was also struggling with mental health issues. So, like a lot of people with those issues—especially back then—he took drugs and drank and shit. Anyway, an interviewer asked Ethan Hawke about Chet’s sense of humor in the movie.”

“His sense of humor?”

“Yeah, see, Chet had a great sense of humor. He was funny, he joked, he laughed. He seemed to be having a good time when he was around people or performing. Ethan Hawke said that it was important for him to keep that aspect. Because we don’t just lose our sense of humor when we’re struggling with depression or hard times. It’s still there. Basically, he said having some one-dimensional sad sack sitting around moping for two hours wasn’t interesting or realistic because that isn’t how people actually are.” Darcy pulled in a deep breath. “So, I guess this is my very long and rambling way of saying that just because Bucky jokes with you and laughs doesn’t mean he isn’t struggling. He seems like the kind of guy who likes to hide that kind of shit from people, especially people he cares about.”

Steve’s brows furrowed as he stared out the window over her shoulder and considered what she’d said. “Sam kinda said the same thing to me, I guess.”

“Sam is way more qualified than I am, so I think you should believe Sam.”

Steve shifted in his chair and said, “How is he with you?”

“Uh, what do you mean?

“I mean, does he talk to you about things?”

Darcy shrugged. “We talk. I try not to push him too much. He’s got a lot on his mind and every time Tafford or Ross show up, they dredge up his past and—”

“Ross?” Steve’s voice was sharp.

“Yeah, he was there when I got home a couple days ago, acting like a creepy asshole.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted intel from Bucky about HYDRA and their operations. I mean, I get why he wants it and I know Bucky wants to help, but… there’s got to be a line, right? Like, you can’t just keep beating his past to death and making him relive that shit. Right?”

“Right,” Steve agreed. “What did Bucky say?”

“That he wants to help. I think he agreed to answer questions from Ross and his minions in the intelligence community. He didn’t say that, but it was the vibe I got when I asked him about it. Do you think that’s bad?”

Steve was chewing on his lower lip as he thought about what she’d said. Just when Darcy thought she wasn’t going to get an answer out of him, Steve said, “His amnesty covers everything he did during those years, so they can’t use it to build a case against him. Maybe they really are trying to develop a plan. We’re trying to track down their base of operations but haven’t had any luck. Agencies don’t share info, though. If Ross can get the C.I.A. and N.S.A.. to cooperate by letting them interview Bucky, then…” He sighed and said, “Maybe if they can pool resources then we can pin HYDRA down and stop whatever it is they’re going to do with those suits.”

“So, you don’t think it’s a bad thing?”

“Maybe not. How was Bucky about it?”

“He says he wants to help. I don’t think he’s in love with the idea of reliving it all, but it is definitely his choice. As far as I can tell, Ross didn’t strong-arm him into it or anything.”

Steve nodded. “Good. Good. I gotta go.” He stood up and gave her a nod of his head before he swept out of the room.

“Well, at least watching him leave the room is a nice view,” she told herself.

“I heard that,” Steve yelled from the hallway.

Of course, he did. She laughed and said, “Nice ass, Rogers!”

* * *

**[July 19, 2018, 5:42pm**

He’d pulled the chair over to the window and was sitting there staring down at the city below them when she walked into the door. When he didn’t turn around, Darcy realized something wasn’t quite right.

“Bucky?” she said, putting her bag down on the floor and walking over to the chair.

He looked up at her when she stepped into his field of vision. “Hey,” he said. Darcy felt her heart drop at the distant look in his eyes.

“Did Ross come by today?” she asked him.

The corners of Bucky’s mouth pulled back, but it couldn’t be called a smile. “Yeah,” he replied.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

She squatted down next to him, a hand braced on the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry your past keeps getting dredged up, Bucky,” she whispered, meaning every word of it.

“It ain’t your fault, sweetheart. How was your day at work?”

“Long. Would you eat dinner with me? I picked up pastrami sandwiches on my way home.”

He looked at her for several beats, not saying anything before finally asking, “Why are you taking care of me like this?”

“Taking care of you?”

“Getting food for me, watching television with me, sitting with me at night when I…”

Darcy scoffed. “That stuff isn’t difficult, dude. It’s common courtesy. I like you and I want you to be happy.”

“I’m afraid to try,” he whispered. “What if I can’t?”

His response confused Darcy. She dropped to her knees and settled her ass back on her heels. “What do you mean? You’re afraid to try to be happy?”

“Yes.” It was just an exhale, a barely-formed word.

“Ummm, I don’t think you just decide to be happy. Like, I don’t think it’s a goal you just reach. Because if it is then I’m fucked. If you want to do something, if you think it will be a good time, then I think you should. One day maybe you’ll be in the middle of dinner or you’ll be watching a movie or you’ll be sitting on a couch with friends and you’ll… be happy. And then it’ll go away and come back again. At least that’s how I see it.”

He smiled and this time it was genuine and reached his eyes. “You put a lot of thought into this happiness thing?”

Darcy opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The answer locked up her throat, trapped there in her aching chest. “Yeah, I have, actually. I… Nevermind.”

“What?” he asked, putting his left hand over hers that was still braced on the arm of the chair.

She shook her head because now wasn’t the time or place to go into _that_. “Nothing. I mean, not nothing, but… I’ll tell you one day. Not today, though.” She cleared her throat and tilted her head back in hopes that the wetness in her eyes wasn’t noticeable yet. “Come eat dinner with me. You don’t have to be happy today. Shitty days are allowed to happen.”

Darcy pulled her hand from underneath his and shifted backward so she could stand without shoving her face in his crotch in the process. Before she was aware of what was happening, he’d grabbed her elbows and helped her up as he stood. They stood there, toe-to-toe, with her looking up at his face. His hands were still cupping her elbows. “Did you have a bad day, too?” he whispered, lips barely moving.

She shook her head and sniffed. “No, it was a normal day. Sometimes things from the past—you know, stuff that is just in your memories—reach out and try to pull you back.”

“Oh, sweetheart… You have no idea how much I know what you mean.”

“Sometimes it isn’t even bad memories, but…”

He didn’t move, didn’t reply when she trailed off. He just stood there, waiting for her to finish, body so close she could feel the warmth coming off him even through his T-shirt and jeans.

“Sometimes it’s a good memory, but the good memories kinda get tangled with the bad ones and they wrap around you in this messy clump. And suddenly your mind is in the past and...” Darcy laughed as she hastily wiped away a tear before it could slide down her cheek. “And suddenly you’re trying to be supportive of this really sweet guy who is having a bad day, but instead you end up crying in front of him. How. Totally. Embarrassing.”

Bucky chuckled at her comment. Before she could continue, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Darcy inhaled a sharp breath in surprise but tried to go with the flow by sliding her arms around his waist. He felt warm and solid. He felt _safe_, and it made her wonder why anyone would be scared of him. He could probably break her back at that very moment, but she had every confidence he would never ever even think it.

“This is nice,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“It is,” he agreed, his voice a rumble in his chest. “Haven’t hugged anyone other than Stevie since I… left HYDRA.”

“You’re a good hugger,” she said, closing her eyes and squeezing him tighter.

“Right back at you, doll,” he whispered into her hair. The hot caress of his breath on her scalp made her want to shiver and burrow into him further. She repressed the urge, but just barely.

“Don’t give up, Bucky. Okay? Just… you’ll have good days again. It won’t always be this way.” She was going to get his shirt wet with the waterworks if she didn’t get herself under control. She needed to stop thinking about her mother. Bucky was not her mother. Bucky’s problem was different than her mother’s.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll try for you.” His right hand was stroking her hair from the crown all the way down to her split ends. Slowly, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and pulled away. Darcy let him go, feeling the absence of his warmth as soon as he’d taken that first step back.

“Try for _you_,” she replied.

He gave her one of those enigmatic smiles that said something Darcy couldn’t quite translate. “Let’s go eat and I’ll tell you about my day,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t get to finish your book,” he admitted, following her over to the kitchen and settling his ass onto a stool.

Darcy said, “What book?” as she opened the bag and pulled out their sandwiches wrapped in brown paper.

“The Wall of Winnipeg and Me.”

“Oh, fuck. I forgot about that. It isn’t _my book_; it is _a book_.”

“It’s in your favorites.”

“I thought you were supposed to be old. You’re not supposed to be about to navigate my Kindle and dissect me by cross-referencing my favorite books.” She sat his sandwich in front of him and turned around to pull two cans of Coke from the fridge. “And I’ll have you know,” she added, “that the Kindle is a skewed sampling since I exclusively read all my smutty romance on it.”

He smiled. “I can tell.”

“You’re a menace,” she told Bucky, unable to hold back the grin when she said it. Darcy walked around and sat down on the stool beside him.

They were both quiet as they unwrapped their sandwiches and took the first couple of bites. Bucky washed down his last bite with a long drink of Coke and said, “Ross brought in three alphabet agency guys—C.I.A., N.S.A., and Homeland Security—plus one of his D.O.D. guys. They were here until Steve showed up just before four and kicked them out.”

“Oh. Oops,” she said. “I might have….”

“I know. It’s okay. He said you’d mentioned it to him.”

“Did you want to be saved?”

Bucky shrugged. “I wasn’t sad to see him show up and end the interrogation.”

“How was it?”

“Long. It’s still tough talking about things I don’t really have a chronological order for in my head.” He took two big bites of his sandwich.

“So, what kind of stuff did they want to know?” she asked.

He finished chewing before saying, “Locations of bases and facilities, weaponry, how many men they have, any other technology they have, chain of command, that sort of thing.”

“So, legitimate questions, then.”

Bucky nodded. “I wouldn’t call them good memories, but… like you said, the really bad gets tangled with other stuff and when someone brings up the other stuff, the bad comes up with it.” He shrugged and took a drink. “I knew it would happen.”

“You looked shell-shocked when I came in.”

“I felt it.” He paused and looked over at her. “You’re good at pulling me out of that. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad I help.”

* * *

**[July 19, 2018, 8:32pm]**

He’d sat on his usual end of the couch, but he was a few inches closer to the middle. In fact, his left thigh was partially on the middle cushion. It was such a small thing, but Darcy couldn’t stop thinking about it. After nights of sitting as far away from her as possible while still sharing the couch, why had he chosen to sit a little closer? Because he’d had a bad day? Because they’d hugged before dinner? Because he was feeling more comfortable with her? _Why?_

Between the second and third episodes of the rebooted Battlestar Galactica, Darcy had taken a bathroom break. Now, she was walking back to the couch in her pajamas and her hair up in a messy bun, feeling self-conscious because his eyes hadn’t strayed from her. Were her cotton shorts too short? Was her lack of a bra under the oversized shirt obvious? Did he think she was not nearly attractive enough to actually be his wife?

He stretched his arm out on the back of the couch and gave a tentative little smile. Was that an invitation? Did Bucky Barnes want to cuddle? She flashed back to the previous night when she’d fall asleep with his arm around her. She’d been too sleepy to be nervous or question the intimacy. Now, though… Well, now was another matter entirely. It wasn’t even fully dark outside.

“You know,” she told him, standing between him and the television, “if you leave your arm like that, I might sit beside you and fall asleep like last night.”

His smile widened. “Yeah?”

Her mind tripped over itself as she tried to convince herself he wasn’t actually flirting with her.

“Yep,” Darcy said, mustering her courage and sitting down right beside Bucky. She wiggled until she was comfortable in the cradle of his side. Once she stopped moving, he dropped his cybernetic arm down and curled it over her shoulder.

“Does my arm bother you?” he murmured.

Darcy lifted her hand up and pinched one of his vibranium fingers that was resting on her upper arm. “No. Does my nose ring bother you?”

Bucky chuckled. “I don’t think it’s the same thing as a weaponized arm hanging off my shoulder.”

“It’s one of your accessories,” she told him, pinching another finger.

He just shook his head before saying, “The piercing was one of the first things I noticed about you when Shuri showed me your picture.”

“Yeah? Did it bother you, old man?”

“No. It looks nice on you. I couldn’t stop thinking about what kind of woman would have a little stud in her nose.”

Darcy leaned away from him slightly so she could see his face. “Did you figure what kind of woman?”

“I’m still figuring that out, but I have no complaints about her.”

“No complaints? Even though I know you saw my granny panties when you washed my clothes a few days ago?” she teased.

He laughed softly. “I closed my eyes to preserve your privacy.”

“Oh, yeah? But you charge forward with reading one of my favorite sexy romance novels?”

“Just trying to figure out how your head works,” he admitted.

“Let me know when you do. I’d love to know how my head works,” Darcy told him before taking the remote from his right hand and playing the next episode before he said something else so sweet she’d wish this was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up tomorrow? Ross has a proposition and Bucky overhears Darcy doing something she didn't really intend for him to hear.


	16. Chapter 16

> _”And there’s a demon in my head who starts to play a nightmare tape loop of what went wrong yesterday. And I hold my breath ‘til it’s more than I can take and I close my eyes and dream that I’m awake.” - Third Eye Blind (Narcolepsy)_

**[July 29, 2018, 10:14am]**

Darcy’s attention was divided equally between the sweet cherries she was eating as she stood in the kitchen and him as he sat at the breakfast bar reading her Kindle. Bucky couldn’t focus because her stare was intense and reading about some guy fucking a woman with his fingers was getting him hard. Thank god she couldn’t see his crotch and the tent of his pants. It was mostly because this was _her_ book. In fact, it was one she’d tagged to re-read. Is that what she wanted? Someone to wrap an arm around her and slide their hand beneath the waistband of her panties and…

It was Sunday, so the office was closed. She’d told him she was going to pull out the laptop she’d purchased with the fancy government-issued credit card and answer some interview questions on behalf of Steve and Natasha, but all she’d done since she woke was watch him read the sexy novels on her Kindle.

“What are you reading?” she finally asked, leaning forward to rest on her elbows opposite Bucky.

He looked up. “Umm, After Hours.”

Darcy looked up at the ceiling as if she were trying to remember what that one had been about. It was about a nurse in her twenties who took a job at an in-patient mental facility and began a no-strings relationship with a dominant orderly there. It was hot. There was a _ton_ of sex and a hero with a very dirty mouth. He’d skimmed through it already because his curiosity was too intense, but now he was reading it properly.

“You know, I’m so happy you’ve found your true love: smutty romance.”

Bucky chuckled. “Pot meet kettle. Also, I’m not at the sex yet.” It was technically not a lie, but he didn’t want to tell her that while she’d been watching him he’d been reading about this guy pumping two fingers in and out of a woman’s pussy. He definitely didn’t want to tell her that he wondered if maybe she’d like that. His cock was a fucking problem nowadays and the novels on her Kindle didn’t help matters.

“Oh, they’ll get to the good stuff soon enough. That one isn’t a slow burn like the first one you read.” He’d finished the Wall of Winnipeg and Me a couple of days after he’d begun it. Wondering about what Darcy thought of it had been a good distraction the day after his interrogation by Ross and his minions.

“You have a tag on here that you want to read this one again,” he said.

“You don’t have to point out my thirst,” Darcy told him.

He furrowed his brows and put the Kindle down. “Your thirst?”

“Yeah, thirst. Shit, I forget you’re from ye olden days sometimes. Like, if you’re lusting after something or someone, then you’re thirsting.”

“And you’re thirsting?” Bucky shifted his leg, trying to relieve the uncomfortable way his cock was pressed against the seam of his jeans. Darcy squirmed and shoved two cherries in her mouth. He watched as she chewed them up and spit the pits onto a napkin in front of her. Was she turned on? By him? Was she… thirsting for him?

“Sure. I mean, we all do now and then, right? Don’t you?”

Bucky licked his lips and slid his gaze off to the side. “I hadn’t for a long time.”

He knew she heard that verb tense; her brain probably focused in on it like a laser. “_Hadn’t?_” she asked, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” he said. “I, uh… Being used as a human weapon kinda kills the libido, but, uh… I—”

The doorbell made them both gasp in surprise.

“Fuck,” she muttered, grabbing at her chest.

“I’ll get it,” he said, laying the Kindle on the countertop.

As he made his way to the door, he heard her mutter to herself. “Oh my _god_, the finger-fucking scene in her bedroom. Now he knows you want a dirty-mouthed, bossy guy who likes to eat pussy and give orgasms. Great.”

Bucky braced a hand on the wall by the door and pressed the other palm to his erection. Please, please go away, he willed it. Her little whisper about wanting a man who was into burying his face between her legs and licking her until she clamped those thighs against his temples and…

“Fuck,” he muttered, clenching his teeth together. Reaching down into his pants, he adjusted his cock so it wasn’t as noticeable and pulled open the door.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Tafford said with that fake smile on display.

He opened the door the rest of the way and stepped back to allow the man entrance. He’d been holding out hope that it would be Steve and he could tell Steve to take a fucking hike so he could go rub one out in the shower while he thought of all the things Darcy Lewis might like a man to do to her. At least his dick still worked after all this time. Thank god for small favors… or for cruel jokes since Darcy was not his to touch.

“Is your wife home?”

His wife. She was _his wife_, which usually meant she’d want him to touch her. Except for this fucked up situation in which it wouldn’t really be appropriate. She was here to get a paycheck, and he was here to reintegrate into American society. He wasn’t here for a second sexual awakening.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “this way.”

“Mrs. Barnes,” Dr. Tafford said as they both cleared the corner.

“You have this real knack for showing up when I don’t have a bra on, dude,” she told him.

He sputtered, unable to come up with a response. Bucky shook his head at her from behind Tafford, but he couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face at her attitude.

“Sweetheart, have mercy on both of us and go put a bra on,” Bucky told her.

“You got any requests?” she asked him as she passed by. “Satin, lace, cotton, front clasp or back? Ooh, the one with the holes where my nipples are?”

Bucky wanted to reply with something smooth and nonchalant, but instead a strange noise that might have been laughing or choking came out. “Ladies' choice,” he finally said. “You know I’m not picky if it’s on you.”

Darcy shut the bedroom door behind herself and Bucky held out a hand to invite Tafford to have a seat. The other man repositioned one of the chairs so it was directly across the coffee table from the couch before sitting down and pulling out his notebook. The page was empty when Bucky walked by to take his place in the middle of the couch. They didn’t talk until Darcy returned in a pair of faded jeans and a little T-shirt that declared sarcasm as being one of her many services. It was purple with green writing, and it was almost too tight to be decent. Her tits more than filled out the thin material.

“How is your new job, Mrs. Barnes? It’s been… almost two weeks, hasn’t it?”

She walked over to stand in front of the couch with her back to Bucky and facing Tafford. “Yeah, it’s great.”

Her ass was right there in front of him and after spending the past few days reading some of the most salacious things he’d ever read—and he’d read some pretty crude things back in his army days—all he could think about was how much he wished he could touch Darcy Lewis. As if acting of its own accord, Bucky’s right hand lifted so he could hook the index finger in one of her belt loops. She looked down at him, those full, pink lips parted. He gave a little tug and she fell back into the couch and landed halfway on his lap. Bucky shifted to make both of them more comfortable and to ensure she wouldn’t feel his erection that had almost deflated until she’d put her shapely ass right in his field of vision. She sighed in contentment as he wrapped an arm around her. It was a familiar position. In fact, she’d spent countless hours wrapped up in one of his arms on this couch in the past week as they’d watched television together. More often than not, she’d join him after his nightmares and they’d sit on the couch together in the glow of the TV screen. She’d always fall asleep before he did, and he’d always carry her into the bedroom to tuck her in. Each time he was tempted to join her, to just crawl right onto the bed and curl his body around her smaller one.

“And you, Sergeant Barnes? How have you been?”

The question jarred him out of his thoughts. “Fine.”

Tafford smile. “No problems, arguments?”

“Arguments?” she asked.

The man gestured to the sheet folded up on the arm of the couch. “It looks like your husband may have slept out here.”

_Fuck_, he thought. He needed a quick answer.

“I was having a bad night,” Bucky said. “Nightmares,” he told Tafford. “So, I came out here to sleep so I didn’t wake her. She must have heard me because she joined me before I could fall asleep.” Bucky squeezed her a little closer with his left arm.

“We watched an episode of The X-Files,” she told the man, sticking with the truth as much as possible.

“And we went back to bed, but I forgot to put the sheet away,” Bucky added.

She narrowed her eyes at the doctor. “So, you can take your questions about our relationship and shove them up your—”

Bucky pressed his lips to her temple, effectively cutting off her righteous indignation. “Sweetheart, be nice,” he murmured.

“I _am_ nice. I’m so nice.”

He chuckled. “You are. But let’s not tell Dr. Tafford to shove anything anywhere, yeah?”

She looked up at him. “Only for you,” she said.

* * *

**[July 31, 2018, 9:59am]**

It was during one of the more salacious sex scenes of the tenth romance novel of Darcy’s he’d read that the doorbell rang. Bucky’s stomach dropped into his feet because he knew. He just _knew_ it was bad news. Steve had been by first thing that morning to convince Bucky to workout with him in the gym downstairs. It felt good to run on the treadmill even if it felt like more of a jog at the highest setting. That meant his visitor wasn’t Steve and it was unlikely it was Sam or Natasha either. Which left Ross or Tafford.

Ross was standing on the other side of the door with a briefcase and two men flanking him. One of the men waited in the hall; the other waited just inside the apartment door. Ross set his briefcase on the coffee table and made himself at home as he verbally poked and prodded Bucky.

After ten minutes of him pressing Bucky for more information on things he’d already told Ross and his men, Bucky said, “What did you come here for, Ross?”

The General smiled and nodded. “I kept my word to you, didn’t I, Barnes? I told you that you were safe. You gave us some very incriminating information a couple of weeks ago and here you are. Just where you were before.”

“The contract prevented you from doing anything. Plus, you’ve got a good thing going with Steve and the others cooperating, and me giving you everything I know about HYDRA. You don’t want to jeopardize it.”

“That’s also true,” Ross conceded. “I do have a little problem, though. I’d like your help with it.”

Bucky’s stomach soured at the way the request was worded. “What do you want?” he asked, voice gruff.

Ross unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down in the closest chair. “We need to find HYDRA, and we need to find them fast. It’s only a matter of time before they use those suits again. Think about the destruction they could cause to a shopping mall or a baseball stadium or an outdoor concert. They destroyed that high school track in Illinois. Kids died. There would be thousands of fatalities if they hit a larger target--a stadium full of people. Did you see the photos from Fort Bliss?”

“No,” Bucky told him. “And I don’t—”

“No one _wants_ to see them, Barnes,” Ross interrupted as he leaned forward, pulled a stack of glossy photos out and tossed them on the coffee table.

Bucky looked down at the photos. The barracks and airplane hanger had been decimated. Half of a brick building that looked to house offices had collapsed. There were bodies in the rubble of both, some of which were burned to the point they were unidentifiable. Just looking at the pictures conjured up the acrid smell of smoke and sweat and burning flesh. “Jesus,” Bucky muttered, looking away.

Leaning forward, Ross spread them out so Bucky could see all of them, unobstructed. Satisfied that Bucky had a good look, he placed more pictures on top of what must have been twenty kids dead on a collapsed set of bleachers. They were worse than the pictures from Fort Bliss. Those were _kids_. “It was bad, Barnes. This can’t happen again. Not here, not anywhere. Look, I know you don’t trust me. I can’t say I completely trust you, but I need you. This _country_ needs you. Hell, the _world_ needs you.”

“I don’t know anything else,” Bucky said. “I gave it all to you. Every last piece of info I know.” He sat down on the couch, unable to look away from the horror in the photos.

“We have a few leads on where HYDRA is, but we aren’t sure if the leads are reliable or timely.”

Bucky looked up to meet the man’s gaze. “Tell Steve, Sam, Natasha, Tony.”

“We need a more delicate hand with this. You and I both know Steve Rogers would go in there kicking the damn door down. Tony would do the same thing, but he’d use the blasters on his suit. They’re too invested in this to think straight.”

“And I’m not? They stole my fucking _life_. You think I’m not invested?” Bucky asked.

Ross shifted to sit on the edge of his chair, forearms resting on his knees as he leveled his gaze on Bucky. “I know you are, son. But you’ve got your head on straight. You’re not looking for a fight, and I’m not looking to give them one right now. I just need _information_. This is strictly recon. I don’t want anyone engaging anyone or anything right now until we know where they are operating out of and what exactly they are capable of.” His lips thinned out in a grimace. “We have to be smart about this. I’d think you’d agree with that, right?”

He nodded. “I agree, but I’m… I’m not your guy.”

“No one knows them better than you. You have intimate knowledge of their operations and hierarchy. That’s invaluable.”

“Yeah, and they know me. All of them, even the ones who never met me.” Bucky lifted his left arm. “I’m not exactly inconspicuous with this.”

“You can cover it up. We can get you anything you need, custom-made, top of the line. The last person they’d expect us to send is the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped over at the title. “I’m not—”

“I know, son. I know. You’re not that anymore. I can see that. Tafford reported back to me and told me you’re stable and reasonable. Your wife, well, she’s another matter, but… She’s protective of you.”

“I’m protective of her, too,” Bucky said, feeling a little flame of anger ignite at Ross attempting to disparage Darcy in any way by labeling her as difficult or uncooperative.

Ross smiled and held up both hands. “Yes, I know. I’m just… I’m saying that our analysis has led us to believe you can be trusted. So, I’m trying to trust you, Barnes. I need you to try to trust me when I say I wouldn’t ask this of you if I didn’t think it was the best shot we have at nailing these fuckers to the wall. I need your discretion and your spy skill set to infiltrate and confirm the location where the suits are being held and who is capable of using one.”

Bucky shook his head. “I… I can’t. I can’t do what you’re asking. I can’t even leave this building.”

“I know you’re struggling. We have medication that might help with your anxiety. It won’t—”

“No,” he said, voice firm and answer final. “No drugs. Period.”

“You’re a professional, Barnes. Once you get out there, your instincts will take over. I have faith in you.” Ross was looking Bucky dead in the eye.

Bucky knew Ross was probably right. Steve would go in hot and might get himself killed. Tony would do the same. No amount of reasoning from Nat or Sam would stop them, not when it was so personal for Steve and, apparently, for Tony as well. But as much as he knew Ross was right, he still couldn’t bring himself to agree to it. How could he just step back into that snake’s nest he’d barely survived? He couldn’t even go out to dinner with the woman who was supposed to be his wife.

“I can’t,” he told Ross. “I understand what you’re saying, but… I just can’t.”

Ross pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Would you at least think about it? I know you don’t care about the money, but I’m authorized to offer you $300,000 to compensate you for your assistance vetting three possible locations. If they don’t pan out, then we’ll pay a hundred grand for each additional location.”

“The money doesn’t matter,” Bucky confirmed. He didn’t have a penny to his name, but the money still didn’t matter a damn bit.

Ross hung his head. “I thought you’d say that, but the offer is still there nonetheless. Sleep on it, Barnes. Take a couple days and consider it before you resign us all to option B.”

“Which is?” Bucky asked.

“Watching your friends go full tilt at HYDRA without the proper intel. Watching HYDRA sweep in with their suits and kill innocent people. We’re concerned Stark Tower might be a primary target. Your wife works there, doesn’t she?”

Bucky felt sick to his stomach at just the idea of Darcy being hurt. And yet even though he’d die to protect her, he still couldn’t seem to… “I can’t,” he told Ross again. “I just… can’t.”

* * *

**[July 31, 2018, 10:49pm]**

She’d known something was wrong as soon as she’d walked in the door; he’d felt her concern and her desire to ask, but he hadn’t offered any explanation other than that he’d had another visit from Ross about intelligence. She hadn’t pressed him for more, though he had been able to tell it took a considerable amount of effort on her part. Bucky appreciated her restraint because he didn’t really want to discuss the offer Ross had made or how he felt about it. Or how much a fucking coward he was when it came to that crushing fear of getting pulled back into a fight and maybe finding himself on the wrong side.

Instead, she’d laughed at him as he’d made a poor attempt at dinner. She’d eaten it anyway. She’d changed into pajamas that showed her legs and only hinted at her breasts. And she’d curled up underneath his arm—the right one this time—to watch episodes of some sort of drama set in space. He liked it just as much as the vampire show about Buffy and her friends, but he still missed Buffy and Willow and Xander.

When the episode ended, she looked up at him and said, “You know I’m not over here on the right because I’m afraid of your left arm, don’t you?”

Bucky looked down at her and saw big blue eyes and full pink lips and the glint of that little stud in her nose. “I know,” he murmured. He did know, actually. She’d never had any qualms about being near or even touching the cybernetic arm.

Darcy reached up and grabbed his right hand, pulling on it and wiggling into his side. “Your right arm is more comfy, though.”

Bucky chuckled before closing his eyes. He was safe and he was secure and he had a pretty girl next to him who actually seemed to care whether he was feeling okay or not. Maybe this was one of those moments where everything was okay or even happy. And he cared about her, obviously. The one thing that Ross had said that kept echoing in his head was the observation about where Darcy worked and how Stark Tower was a likely target. Of course, it was a likely target. It would be the ultimate blow to Stark—steal his technology, bend it to their own whims, and use it to attack the very public headquarters of his global business.

“I wish I knew what was going on in your head,” she whispered.

“Just… thinking,” he replied, trailing his fingertips up and down her arm. Her skin was so soft and he enjoyed the goosebumps that would pop up as he touched her like this. Just like that those thoughts of her safety shifted to thoughts of her books and all that sex contained in them. She was sweet and kind. If she was ever overtly sexy it was just a byproduct of something unassuming like bending over to pick up her bag. She didn’t mean to tempt him, but she did. Not that he’d do anything about it, but those novels… She obviously thinks about sex. Did she want to be the woman in the pages of those books? Did she want a man to throw her on the bed and rip her panties off and spread her legs and bury his face in her…

He moved the pillow under his left arm to his lap to cover his growing erection. Unaware of what he was doing until he actually did it, Bucky licked his lips as he thought about what she’d taste like, what she’d smell like, what she’d _feel_ like.

Her finger tapping his chest made Bucky look down at her smiling face. The pillow was clutched in his left hand. He released it but left it where it was to avoid her knowing exactly what kind of effect she had on him.

“Why don’t you sleep in the bed tonight?” Darcy asked.

“I can’t,” he said immediately. He left off the reason, which was that he couldn’t be so close to her.

“You can. I’ll sleep here; you sleep there.” Bucky wanted to sink into the earth. He’d thought she was suggesting they sleep together, but she was being her usual caring self by offering to switch.

“No, my sleep is going to be the same whether I’m out here or in there,” he answered honestly.

She tapped his chest again before sliding out of his grasp and standing. The way she stretched her arms in the air, lifted her baggy shirt up so he could glimpse a hint of her skin above the waistband of the shorts. It just made him press the pillow that much more firmly onto his lap. “I’ll see you in a couple hours for two in the morning X-Files and couch naps.”

“Darcy, you don’t have to… You should just get some earplugs. I’m not your problem.”

“You’re not a problem,” she replied before giving him a little wave and walking across the room to the bedroom door. After she shut it behind herself, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and exhaled the breath he’d been holding. He needed to stop reading the romance novels on her Kindle while she was at work. All they made him think about was sex. With her. Maybe after he finished the one he’d started a couple of days ago. He couldn’t leave it unfinished. Right?

The visit from Ross would no doubt cause nightmares. Resigning himself to them, Bucky turned off the television and sat in the dark for a few minutes before reaching over to the arm of the couch and grabbing his sheet. Mere seconds after he settled down into the cushions of the couch and covered himself, he heard the rustling of a restless Darcy, flipping around in bed. Sometimes he’d lie there in the dark and listen to her toss and turn as she tried to find a comfortable spot to fall asleep. She was usually out quickly, so hearing her maneuver around for twenty minutes after she’d gone to bed was unusual. Maybe that was why he was straining his already enhanced hearing.

And maybe he only heard the shuddering inhale and exhale of her breath because he was straining so hard to hear. For a moment, he thought she was in pain, but that wouldn’t make sense. His mind quickly shifted to concern that she was upset and crying. Did she miss her friends, her family? Bucky wiped a hand roughly over his face when he realized he didn’t know the first thing about her personal life. He didn’t know the names of any of her friends beside Jane Foster. He didn’t know her parents’ names or if she had siblings. He didn’t know where she was born and what she’d wanted to do after school. Before her life was derailed by Jane Foster and Thor, that was. He’d been living with her; she was his _wife_ and he didn’t know these basic things about someone he’s come to actually care for.

Why was she crying? He remained there on the couch, flat on his back and clutching the sheet, and tried to come up with a reason for going to check on her. The thought of her curled up in bed, trying to stifle her tears so he wouldn’t hear… Well, it broke his heart. She’d been so supportive of him and he wanted to return the favor; he just didn’t know how to begin.

She made a soft noise, something more like a breathy grunt. Was she lifting something? Was she actually _hurt_? Had someone rappelled down the side of the building and gotten in her bedroom window? Bucky sat up, but before he swung his feet off the couch, sanity and reason returned. The window was locked; he checked it every day after she left. The glass shattering would have been heard, and a struggle would have made much more noise than her restless tossing and turning. She would have at least screamed, muffled by a hand or not. So, if it wasn’t pain and she wasn’t crying then…

Her exhales made soft sounds like she was straining for something. Bucky closed his eyes and held his breath, listening to her make these breathy little sounds of… _pleasure_. He swallowed and curled his fingers into the cushions of the couch when he realized what was happening. He’d jerk off every morning in the shower after she’d left for work for the past week. She was never alone here without him. Had she been suffering, wishing she could touch herself without him listening to the way she’d moan? Had she finally gave up and just decided to try and be quiet?

Bucky’s mind buzzed with thoughts of her flat on her back in the middle of the bed, knees bent, legs spread wide, both hands between her shapely thighs. He dropped back down on the couch and stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about how one hand would be spreading her lips and the other would be working that sensitive little button of nerves nestled right there at the top of her slit.

Were her shorts and panties bunched up on the bed or where they stretched around her knees? Was her shirt lifted up to reveal her tits? He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips as he thought about taking her nipples in his mouth or licking her pussy. God, he needed to stop reading her fucking books. They elevated his imagination to heights he’d never have gone had he not been bingeing the fiction every day while she was at work.

Bucky pressed his palm down against his hardening cock, begging it to go away before he was tempted to do exactly what she was doing. She gave a soft growl of frustration, and then he heard her moving again, shifting around on the sheets of her bed. His imagination kicked into overdrive as he thought about her pulling open the bedroom door, walking over to the couch, and climbing on top of him. He slipped his hand under the waistband of his pants and boxers and grabbed his cock in a firm fist. She could use him if she wanted. She could just straddle him and ride his cock and he’d… Bucky exhaled a shaky breath. Who was he kidding? He’d lose his fucking mind and flip her over so he could rut into her like a horny virgin. Because that’s basically what he was nowadays. It had been decades since he’d touched a woman.

He moved his fist up and down his shaft, spreading the viscous liquid leaking from his tip over the head of his cock. The entire time, he focused on the sound, listening for her footsteps on the floor so he could stop and bend his knee to hide his erection from her if she were to open the bedroom door. She never did, though. What she did do was find something that buzzed. He stopped for a moment and strained to make out the noise. It was a faint buzzing sound, maybe a steady hum from an electronic device. Whatever it was made her breath hitch and turned the volume of her breathy little grunts up a notch. She was still so quiet, but she had all his attention focused on her.

It took him a couple more seconds of squeezing his cock and listening to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She had a fucking _vibrator_. Bucky closed his eyes as they rolled back into his head. What if he just went in there and said, “I can help. Just tell me what to do. Teach me how to make you come.” He was rusty, but he thought he could figure it out if she gave him a couple of hints like how hard to suck on her clit and if she preferred two or three fingers in her pussy while he did that. It’d be like riding a bike.

Those little moans and muffled grunts of pleasure were wrapping around his conscious mind like insidious tendrils, shutting down his intelligence and will power. All he had now were filthy fantasies of how her tits would bounce as she rode him or how _good_ it would feel to grab her hips and sink his cock all the way to the hilt inside her. Bucky twisted his hand on the downstroke, squeezing his shaft in an attempt to delay his orgasm. Would she wrap her legs around his hips and dig her heels into his ass? Would she leave red welts up and down his back from digging her nails into his skin as she came apart beneath him?

They were already married for real. She was too sweet of a girl to run around on him to get her needs met. Bucky fantasized about approaching her the next day and offering to make her come twice a night and three times on Sundays as part of this marriage charade. Would she say yes? Would she want to read those novels on her Kindle with him and then recreate the scenes?

Bucky arched his back and bit the inside of his cheek as he came in his pajama pants. The only sounds he made were labored breaths as he descended from the high. She was just a bit louder now, the hum of the vibrator not as muted, probably because it wasn’t buried in her pussy any longer. It was probably pressed right up on her protruding little clit. God, he could come again just thinking about her laid out in that bed looking like a fucking feast.

He squeezed his softening cock when she gasped and then, presumably, buried her face into a pillow in an attempt to muffle the sounds of her orgasm. He wished she hadn’t tried to dull them because the sound of her coming was something he very much wanted to hear.

Bucky squeezed his cock again. Where was all this coming from? It was like all this pent up sexual desire he’d not felt since falling off the train had been released. It wasn’t that he hadn’t rubbed one out before during those two years in Bucharest or the two years in Wakanda, but he’d never felt this crazy or this urgent about it. The fantasies had never been this crystal clear with a very specific woman in mind.

Never going to happen, he told himself. Never ever. He was already too attached to her. Even if she agreed to some sort of sexual relationship during the marriage, it would be a bad idea and spell out his doom. Bucky suspected if he was ever able to have all of her, then he’d not want to sign those inevitable divorce papers next year. If they lived that long. It was a matter of time before HYDRA used the suits again. Only a matter of time before they hit Tony Stark back by destroying something of his. How could he tell Darcy she couldn’t work in Stark Tower any longer? How could he tell her she needed to live in fear for her life? And what if he could make it all go away by doing what Ross had asked? The cash wasn’t a factor, but it’d be nice to not depend on Darcy for everything. He was a grown man, but she bought his food every day.

He could force himself to get out of the building, help locate HYDRA, and maybe keep her safe. And if he couldn’t? If he were captured? There needed to be a contingency plan, a quick and effective method of suicide. The wheels of his brain turned as he actually considered Ross’ plan for the first time since it had been presented to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow? Progress! Bucky leaves the building and decides maybe the couch isn't the most comfortable place to sleep...


	17. Chapter 17

> _”She’ll lead you down a path. There’ll be tenderness in the air. She’ll let you come just far enough so you know she’s really there.” - Bruce Springsteen (Secret Garden)_

**[August 1, 2018, 8:12am]**

She genuinely liked him, but he was still mining her dirty little secrets by reading her smutty romances, and it was driving her crazy. Actually, everything about Bucky Barnes was driving her crazy—the way he looked at her when she walked into the room, the feel of his solid body next to her while they watched television at night, the shape of his… well, everything underneath his clothes. Despite him keeping his tops and bottoms on at almost all times, she still had a vivid imagination that could conjure up a possible vision of his naked body. And it looked _so good_.

Darcy hit the button to turn the Kindle screen off when she heard him returning from the bathroom. She was eating her cereal at the bar before she left for work and the temptation to see if he was still reading her favorites had been too much to resist. Sure enough, he was in the middle of chapter ten of a novel called Going the Distance about a woman who moved to a remote village in China to teach English in order to escape a shitty family situation. Of course, moving to China meant meeting this hot guy who was on a construction crew working there for a few months. And, in chapter ten specifically, it meant doggy style with this guy’s finger up her ass as she came. _Fuck_, Darcy thought. Not only did he know she’d given the book a little fucking heart to favorite it, but she’d thrown caution to the wind last night when she went to the bedroom and gotten herself off with the trusty vibe she’d traveled with for the past two years.

He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of wheat bran. She’d die before she ate that cardboard. Instead, she was shoveling sugary Cap’n Crunch into her mouth and thinking she’d rather die of embarrassment than of tasteless cereal. He didn’t _seem_ like he’d heard her. No awkwardness or stilted conversations. No sidelong glances. Maybe his super soldier hearing wasn’t super enough to detect her sexual frustration through the bedroom door.

Her phone dinged and she pulled it out of her back pocket to see a response from Jane. She’d texted her friend last night and continued the conversation that morning about Bucky and her lascivious thoughts that were _not appropriate_.

**Jane: Maybe you should just ask him if he wants to include sex in your arrangement**

**Jane: He might be into it since he’s not getting any either**

“Work texting you?” Bucky asked before he poured milk into his cereal.

“Uh, no. Just… Jane.” She could feel her cheeks flush at the mere idea of asking Bucky if he wanted to screw around with her since they were already married. Yeah, right. Her ego was fragile enough; she didn’t need to threaten it further with a sound rejection of her offer of no strings sex.

Instead of texting her friend back, Darcy shoved the phone back into her pocket and concentrated on finishing her cereal. “How did you sleep last night?” she asked.

He looked up at her, eyes wide. “Uh, okay.” His voice lifted at the end of the response, making it sound more like a question than an answer.

“I didn’t hear you,” she said. “You didn’t have nightmares?”

“Uh…” He looked away, appearing to be flustered for a moment and her stomach dropped. What if he _had_ heard her. “It was the usual. Woke up a couple times, got maybe three or four hours. Not as bad as other nights.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dumb. She sounded so dumb.

“You?” he asked, glancing up at her through his eyelashes before taking a bite of his cereal. Oh, to be that spoon.

“Umm, yeah. Good. The usual.”

He nodded as she chewed. “That’s good,” he said after swallowing.

She grasped at mental straws, trying to find something to change the subject. “So, uh, what did Ross want yesterday?”

He stopped eating but refused to look up at her.

“Bucky?” she asked.

“He was just looking for some more info on HYDRA bases. Coordinates, that sort of thing. I doubt they kept the locations I’m aware of. Too much of a risk that I’d remember and come back.” He kept his eyes on the countertop that he was leaning against as he ate opposite her.

“Did you ever think about trying to go back? Yourself or with Steve? To get, like, revenge?”

He shook his head. “Not seriously. I was always afraid they’d turn me back into, uh… the, uh…”

“Winter Soldier?” she prompted.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “Shuri said all that programming is outta my head now, but…” Bucky shook his head and took a bite of his cereal. After he chewed and swallowed—likely a tactic to buy time—he said, “I just don’t want any part of it, you know. I don’t want them to hurt anyone and I’ll fight if I have to, but fighting them for myself… I’m not interested in that.”

“Dude, I wanna fight them for you,” she said.

He glanced up, all sweet and shy, with a little smile on his lips. “Thanks, sweetheart. They probably wouldn’t know what hit ‘em.”

“Well, they’re all a bunch of losers. I could probably kick their asses.”

Bucky chuckled. “I bet you could. But maybe you should not and say you did? I’d like to keep my sanity by not worrying about whether you’re safe.”

“Well, I _am_ on the only fake wife you have.”

“Real wife, actually,” he reminded her. She looked down at the wedding ring. Most of the time she forgot she even had it on. It was funny how easily she’d gotten used to it when she remembered how awkward it had felt and how aware she’d been of the ring that first day.

“I doubt they would kick you out because your wife was tragically killed in the line of defending your cute ass.”

He cleared his throat and said, “I ain’t worried about getting kicked out. I’m worried about you getting hurt. Maybe… maybe you could work from home some days?”

She furrowed her brows. “Why? Are you going stir crazy by yourself here? Come to the office. Call up Steve. He’d backflip with joy if you told him you wanted to go for a run around your old stomping grounds across the river.”

“I’m not lonely. I worry about you. They have those suits and you’re working at Stark Tower and… that’d be a statement right there. That’d be an embarrassment to Stark and the Avengers if they hit that building.”

He looked genuinely worried for her and that made her stomach feel all weird. Heartburn, maybe it was just heartburn. “Security is… insane right now. Trust me. Sam said something about the Air Force and rolling out this new technology they’ve been testing for the past five years. It uses satellites to scan for—”

“They’re very good at covert ops. If they come in, they aren’t coming in hot like Stark would. They’re going to come in on foot, infiltrate the building, take out as many people and cause as much damage as they can before getting out.”

She widened her eyes. “Yeah, I know. Which is why it takes me twenty-five minute from walking through the front door to walking into my tiny office upstairs. There are like a gazillion checkpoints.”

“It’d just make me feel better to know you’re safe, that’s all,” Bucky said, returning his attention to the soggy brown cereal in his bowl.

She reached out and pinched the edge of his bowl, pulling it away to get him to look up at her. “I’m being safe,” she promised. “Thank you for caring, though. The list of people who care that much about me is pretty—”

“Long,” Bucky interrupted. “If you weren’t going to say long, then you’re just crazy, sweetheart. I’m in good company on that list.”

She smiled and pushed his bowl back over. “I suspect our lists overlap quite a bit. Steve is at the top of both. Honestly, I think Steve is on everyone’s list.”

“Except his own,” Bucky pointed out. “Steve doesn’t care about his own safety, the little punk.”

* * *

**[August 1, 2018, 2:10pm]**

“How is he?” Shuri’s face filled Darcy’s screen, looking expectant.

Darcy had received a notification that a secure channel between her and Wakanda had been established and that a dignitary there was attempting to contact her. Instead of a stately gentleman in formal dress, she got Shuri with her braids in two pigtails and a Rolling Stones shirt.

“He’s good,” Darcy said. “I mean, I think. He won’t leave the building we live in and he’s having nightmares almost every night, but… other than that he seems good.”

“That sounds bad, not good,” Shuri said.

“Well, it’s a process. He gave me a hug. That’s progress, right?”

Shuri raised her brows. “A hug? Tell me about this _hug_.”

“It was a hug. We were both upset. He was being nice and comforting.”

“And why were you both upset?”

“Shuri, come on. I don’t… Just… Damn, cut me some slack. I wasn’t prepared for this inquisition.”

Shuri narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a crush on him?” she asked Darcy.

“Oh my god,” Darcy muttered, hiding her face behind her hands. “Dude, don’t go there.”

“You _do_!” Shuri exclaimed. “I would say I cannot wait for you two to marry, but you’re already married. When you fall in love, we’ll have a real wedding. And I’ll be invited, of course. And it will be in America so T’Challa will be forced to let me attend.”

“Uh, I don’t think there’s going to be a wedding.”

“Why?”

Darcy scoffed. “Well, he’s just in this to clear his name. Pretty sure he’s counting down the days until we can have our fake fight and our real divorce.”

“Disappointing,” Shuri replied with a pout.

“And, hey, if I was getting married for real, I’d want one of those wacky Las Vegas weddings. You know, with Elvis officiating.”

“What?”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Look it up. Totally casual and kitschy. Thinking about putting on a white dress and walking down the aisle to some old lady playing the piano gives me hives. Yuck. Also, he’s not into me. Marriage of convenience, Shuri.”

“Just give it time. You two are perfect for one another.”

“How the hell do you know?” Darcy asked, forgetting that she was talking to royalty.

“You should have seen your faces when you saw each other for the first time. It’s fate.”

“It’s delusional,” Darcy replied.

* * *

**[August 1, 2018, 5:43pm]**

“Did Shuri call you today?” she asked as she sat her bag on the floor.

Bucky was reclining on the couch, looking like the sexiest man she’d ever seen despite the fact he hadn’t changed out of his pajamas all day and maybe hadn’t washed his hair in two days. The Kindle was in his hands. What book was he reading _now_?

“Yeah,” he replied.

“She’s a lot.”

He smiled at Darcy. “Yeah.”

“Look, I’m going to tough-love you today,” she said, walking over to take the Kindle. The conversation with Shuri had reminded Darcy exactly how unhealthy him hiding in the building could be.

“You’re going to what?” he asked, giving up the device without a fight.

“Ugh, dude. Stop reading my smut. I don’t need you to know all of my sexual deviances.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “They aren’t deviances,” he defended.

“I’m, like, eighty percent joking, but still… Anyway, I’m tough-loving you.”

“What’s that mean?” he said, looking up at her like he might be interested in whatever it was. The expression on his face took Darcy off-guard. She’d thought he’d be confused and uncomfortable, not staring at her with a look of anticipation.

“It means I didn’t bring you dinner. If you want food, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Bucky licked his lips. “Uh, where… where are you going?”

“To a restaurant. A pizza shop, specifically. Nothing fancy. We walk in, get a couple slices to go, eat on a park bench, and walk back home.”

“Umm, I, uh…”

“I like the casual Bucky-just-got-out-of-bed look, but I don’t think it’s going to fly out there in the world, so you might want to get some pants on,” she told him. It was all a bluff, but she thought maybe if she railroaded him that he’d agree.

“Okay,” Bucky said, standing up and slipping into the bedroom.

Darcy spun around in a circle, hands in the air to silently celebrate her victory. It took him fifteen minutes to get ready, twelve of which she was sure were spent in the bathroom having a minor freak out. She stood by the door and told him about her first time visiting New York City with her dad when she was a freshman in high school and how he’d had to pull her from an alley when she took off chasing a rat, thinking it was a lost dog.

When Bucky opened the door, he had a subtle upward curve at the corners of his mouth. “That can’t be true,” he said.

She widened her eyes. “It is! I’m from Indiana; we have regular-size rats there.” She gave him a once-over from his head with the hair contained in a low bun at the base of his skull to the long-sleeve henley with two open buttons that gave her just a hint of his chest to the boot-cut jeans that no doubt showed off his ass quite nicely. “Is this your date outfit?”

He looked down at his clothes. “Best I can do since my personal shopper didn’t buy me a suit and tie.”

“Your personal shopper prefers this look. This is a good look.”

He sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he chuckled. “I’m ready to do this,” he said, nodding at the door.

“What changed your mind?”

“You.”

“Tough love doesn’t work that fast. It had to have been something else. I was expecting more of a fight about this.”

His shoulders bunched up around his neck in a shrug as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll tell you over pizza. Let’s go before I lose my nerve. It’s probably busy out there.”

“Oh!” Darcy reached into her bag and pulled out a white glove with a half-inch square the thickness of a credit card embedded in the cuff. “This is for you so you can be incognito if you want. Put it on your left hand.”

He did as he was told. Once it was on, Darcy held her breath as she pressed down on the chip. The fabric immediately conformed to his hand and shifted into a color that resembled his own skin. “What…” he said, turning his hand over.

“Natasha told me about it. I tracked one down this afternoon.” She touched the fabric over his hand, noting that it didn’t feel nearly as real as it looked. “I’m not saying you need to hide your hand, but I thought you might like to be as invisible as you can. The last thing we need is a mob of crazy women running after you.”

He snorted. “Why would we have that?”

“Sexy tortured war hero. Women can’t resist. Although, you might have that problem anyway. Can you stop looking like a model?”

Now he outright laughed. “I do not,” he said.

“Do too. If anyone tries to take you home, show them your ring and tell them your wife is renowned for her jealousy.”

Bucky gave her a smile that warmed her right down to her toes before he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. “She ain’t got nothing to be jealous over.”

The brush of his fingertips over her ear made Darcy pull in a ragged breath. “Okay. Okay! Pizza! Let’s go.”

Before she opened the door, Bucky laid his hand on it and said, “They may be watching us out there. We have to act married.”

“Right,” Darcy agreed. “I know that.”

She actually hadn’t thought of that, but it really wouldn’t be that difficult. It’s not like married couples went out for pizza and sucked face in the park afterward. They just needed to hold hands and sit closer together and maybe whisper in each others’ ears.

“There are devices that could listen to our conversation from many yards away,” he said.

“Gotcha,” Darcy said. “Only lovey-dovey talk outside of these walls.”

If he was nervous, he hid it well. As they exited the building, Bucky took her left hand in his right, lacing their fingers together. She didn’t really have any particular place in mind, and Bucky didn’t seem too anxious, so she decided to press her luck and walk a few blocks.

After they’d passed a couple of pizza places that would have fit the bill, she leaned into him and said, “Hey, you okay? I thought we’d walk up to Central Park if you’re not feeling like you wanna climb out of your skin.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m okay. This isn’t so bad.” His gaze was constantly sweeping their surroundings and maybe he felt a little tense, but he didn’t seem distressed.

“It’s nice out,” she said, looking up at the slice of sky she could see between the tall buildings on either side of them. The sky was clear blue and for August it was cool—only in the upper seventies with a breeze to clear out the typical oppressive humidity. “You’ll tell me if you want to go back, right?”

He smiled down at her and nodded. “I’m okay. It’s nice to get some fresh air even if it smells a little like garbage when we pass an alley.”

“Hey, that’s part of the charm of New York, right? Big rats, eau de garbage, pushy people walking into you when you’re trying to have a date night with your cute-ass wife.”

Bucky chuckled and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad I came out. Feels good to stretch my legs.”

“You know, I really am surprised my railroading scheme worked. I thought there was a good chance I’d walk in there and tell you to move your ass and you’d dig in your heels.”

They stopped at a crosswalk, traffic almost in gridlock in front of them. “I’ve been thinking a lot the past couple days,” he admitted. “Before I even agreed to sign the contract Ross offered, T’Challa told me I needed to move forward. Taking this step with you was moving forward, but… afterward…” He shook his head and looked up at the sky for a moment. “Afterward, I worried I’d… we’d moved too far, too fast. I guess my answer to that was to just… hole up. You know?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, tugging on his hand to encourage him to cross now that they had a walk sign. “I’m no stranger to self-sabotage. Sometimes you know what is best for you, but you do the wrong thing or you do nothing because you’re just… scared.”

“I guess… I guess I thought doing nothing would just… would put it all on hold. But the world moves even if I don’t. I mean, I should have figured that out a month ago when I found out HYDRA was still killing people even though I was out of the game and hiding. Hiding in Wakanda or hiding in the apartment… it’s the same, you know. It’s just… hiding.”

Darcy bumped her shoulder into his as they walked past a noisy storefront. “You make it sound like hiding is a bad thing.”

“Well, it is. If I can help, then I should help. I told Steve and Tony on the quinjet a month ago that I needed to help. I have to stand behind that.”

“Yeah, but you have to be ready to help.”

He laughed, but it was more bitterness than humor that infused it. “I don’t think we have that luxury.”

“So, what? This is the first step toward missions? Are you sure you want to do that, Bucky?”

“You don’t think I’m capable?” he asked.

Darcy squeezed his head. “I didn’t say that. I just… I worry about you. I don’t want you to get hurt. You can’t expect your _wife_ to be excited for you to risk your life, you know?” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Just because you’re leaving the apartment doesn’t mean you have to do anything else, you know? You can go out to dinner with me without agreeing to missions or agreeing to fight anyone. Just because you do one doesn’t mean you have to do the other.”

“I know that, sweetheart. But, if I can do this with you, then it’s only fair that I help them fight.”

“You’re talking like you have something in mind, like you’ve already decided this.” She realized at that point they were having what should have been a private conversation in a public place where someone could eavesdrop and all of her reactions had been as a concerned friend, not a worried wife. “You didn’t think to run this by me? Don’t you think I should have a say?”

He looked down at her, not comprehending what she was getting at.

“Don’t you think your _wife_ should have a say, Bucky?”

Her prompt sparked acknowledgment in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I haven’t decided anything. Let’s just… Let’s talk about it over dinner. Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“But you’ve gotta promise me that it’s between us. Whatever we talk about, it stays between us. No running to tell Steve or Sam or anyone, okay?”

“Bucky, I don’t like this.”

“Promise me, sweetheart. Promise me.”

She frowned. “But what if I think you’re in danger.”

“You won’t. It’ll be fine. I promise. But we’ve gotta keep this between the two of us.”

“Fine. _ Fine_. You’re a real pain in the ass, Barnes.”

They continued walking toward the park. Bucky dipped his head down to murmur, “Thank you, sweetheart,” right in her ear. The caress of his breath made her shiver.

“You can thank me later tonight,” she told him, wiggling her eyebrows. Her comical expression got just the reaction she wanted when he laughed.

They walked for another fifteen minutes before stopping in a tiny pizza shop that had two tables inside. Darcy ordered and paid for four slices to go while Bucky waited behind her, his hand just barely touching the small of her back. The gesture was protective, but it also made her body heat up. She needed to get sex with him out of her head because it wasn’t going to happen. Even if he was into it, he had so much going on in his head already that it was a layer of complication neither of them needed.

She was dying to know what he had to say about his sudden change of heart over missions. The curiosity was at the forefront of her mind when they settled down on a bench under a tree. It had a view of the surrounding area and she watched as Bucky surveyed the spot, no doubt weighing the safety of it. Her brain didn’t work that way, even after all the shit she’d experienced since meeting Jane. She wondered exactly what terrible shit and exactly how much training was required to shift someone’s brain enough that a nice dinner in the park involved a quick analysis of the defendability of the location.

“Oh no,” she told him when he tried to give two of the slices to her. They were in their own individual boxes. “You eat three. I eat one.”

“Darcy—”

“I’m getting ice cream on the way home. I have to save room. Plus, you’re this super buff super soldier. You need your fuel, right?”

“Fuel for sitting around our apartment?”

“Fuel for bedroom activities,” she told him with a wink.

Bucky’s cheeks actually flushed as he laughed and looked away. “Don’t tease me or you won’t get any bedroom activities.”

“I wasn’t teasing you. I was reminding you that I have a vested interest in your well-being.” She sat down beside him on the bench and flipped open her box. The pizza smelled delicious. “So, tell me about this thing I have to keep to myself.”

“You promise you’ll keep it to yourself?”

“Depends on what you tell me,” she replied.

Bucky glanced over as two men jogged by, their loud conversation carrying over the distance. “Promise me, sweetheart.”

“Fine. I promise.”

“Ross wants me to go on a solo mission. Recon. No engagement.”

“No,” she said, feeling her stomach twist up at the prospect of him leaving, getting hurt.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no way are you doing a solo mission. You’re not actually considering it, are you?” Her appetite was gone.

He gave her a tight smile when she looked up at him.

Darcy scoffed. “Oh my god, you _are_ thinking of doing it. Bucky, you… I can’t believe you’re… that you’d… If you’re going to do this, then you need backup.”

He shook his head. “No backup. It’s a one-man job. I get in, confirm the locations, and get out.”

“No fucking way. No way. It’s too dangerous.”

“Darcy,” he said.

“Bucky, no. No, no, no. Please. Don’t—”

He sat his food on the bench and took her face in his hands. “I haven’t said yes, sweetheart. It’s just… something I’m considering. I told you this morning that Stark Tower is probably a target. You work there. You think I could live with myself knowing you were hurt or killed because I didn’t do what I could? I can’t live with that on my conscience, Darcy. I can’t.”

“I told you the security there is in-fucking-sane. If HYDRA attacks, then they’ll pick an easier target.”

Bucky exhaled a sharp breath of disbelief. “Yeah? You think you know them better than I do? I lived and breathed HYDRA for decades.”

“You’re talking like you’ve already made up your mind.” Her voice was panicked and she wasn’t even putting on a show for anyone listening. It was real concern, real panic. She hoped Bucky understood that.

Bucky swiped a thumb over her cheekbone before releasing her. “I haven’t. We can talk about it later. I’m not going to do it if you don’t want me to.”

“I don’t want you to, then.”

“Darcy, we’ll talk about it later.”

She said, “I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Eat your pizza, sweetheart,” he told her. “Let’s just… let’s forget about it.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. Sure, it was what a wife would say, but Darcy meant it all the same even if their marriage was just a piece of paper.

He glanced over, eyes searching hers. “You ain’t gonna lose me, Darcy. You get final say.”

“Okay,” she told him, looking down at her slice. “You ruined my pizza date in Central Park by being stupid,” she added, pouting.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m sorry, doll. I’ll make it up to you.”

* * *

**[August 2, 2018, 1:02am]**

A sharp sound pulled her out of her sleep. Darcy sat up and blinked in the darkness of the bedroom, waiting for the noise again. A few seconds later, she heard a thump that sounded like his arm or leg smacking against the coffee table. Her stomach dropped as she realized it was another nightmare.

Despite his promise to talk about it later, Bucky had refused to talk about what Ross had asked him to do other than to forbid her from talking to Steve or anyone else in the Avengers about it. He maintained that he hadn’t said yes, but he was considering the offer. Darcy wondered if maybe the offer involved a shit-ton of money and freedom from her. If it did, would that sweeten the pot and make him more likely to accept?

She’d wanted a nice dinner with him, but ended up getting a tense picnic in the park and an even more tense evening of staring at the television while he ignored her. She’d gone to bed angry and upset. That’s what you get for caring about someone like him, she reminded herself.

For a few seconds, she sat on the bed and considered letting him flail around on his own out there. When she heard his ragged yell for help, she sighed and swung her legs out of bed. By the time she opened the door, he was sitting up and pushing his hair back from his face. “Hey,” she whispered, walking over to the couch and sitting down beside him.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he rested his forearms on his knees. “I hate that you can’t get a solid night of sleep because of me.”

Darcy waved way his apology before reaching out and grabbing the remote. A moment later, the television was on and an episode from the second season of The X-Files was playing. She remembered curling her legs underneath her and leaning into his body as he slipped an arm over her shoulder. She remembered resting her cheek on his chest. Everything after that was swallowed by sleep.

It could have been fifteen minutes later or a couple of hours later when she woke to him laying her on the bed. “What time is it?” she whispered, her mind still addled with sleep.

“Almost two,” he whispered back. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

Darcy looped both arms around his neck before he could pull away. “Just lie down here with me for a minute,” she told him. “Just… for a minute. Please.”

“Darcy, I—”

“Just for a minute,” she insisted, closing her eyes, but keeping her arms firmly around his neck. She felt his hands gently trying to loosen her grip. “Just lie down.”

He laughed softly and she could vaguely feel the depression of the mattress where he’d placed his knee. “Sweetheart, you gotta let me go.”

“Just lie down with me. Rest your eyes for a minute,” she said.

He sighed and shifted again. “Fine. Scoot over.”

She smiled and closed her eyes again as she wiggled to make room for him with one hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt.

Once he’d settled down on the mattress next to her, Darcy let him go and rolled onto her side. “Night, Bucky,” she said as she yawned.

“Night, Darcy,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow we'll get a little insight into Darcy's past and she might end the chapter pinning Bucky down in the bed. ;-)


	18. Chapter 18

> _”So save me. I’m waiting, I’m needing, hear me pleading. And soothe me, improve me. I’m grieving, I’m barely believing it now. When you are flying around and around the world and I’m lonely, I know there’s something sacred and free reserved and received by only me.” - Semisonic (Secret Smile)_

**[August 2, 2018, 8:02am]**

He woke up slowly and that was unusual. For the past few weeks, he’d rocketed out of sleep, gasping for air more times than not. This time, though, he felt a warmth on his back and rolled over to find sunlight coming through the window, bathing the bed in a buttery glow.

_The bed._

He sat up and looked around the bedroom, but there was no sign of Darcy. Just after two o’clock that morning, he’d scooped her sleeping body up and carried her to bed like he’d done so many times before. Except last night, she’d woken as he’d carefully laid her on the mattress. He remembered her arms tight around his neck and her half-closed eyes and her mumbles about staying, about getting into the bed to lie down for just a minute. As soon as he’d relented and crawled in to rest beside her, she’d fallen asleep. Bucky hadn’t intended on sleeping there beside her, but he’d told himself he was just going to listen to her breathing for a minute. Just one minute to make sure she was asleep. And here he was waking up well after sunrise in an empty bed.

He rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his face into her pillow, inhaling her scent as he kicked the sheet tangled around his legs. For the first time in the past month, he felt like he got good sleep, blessedly free of nightmares. Had it just been a coincidence or did that have something to do with having her there beside him?

Reaching down, he adjusted his erection so it wasn’t pressing into the mattress at an uncomfortable angle. Doing so allowed him to get another whiff of her shampoo or soap or something that lingered on the sheets. It only made his morning wood worse. Bucky buried his face in the mattress and tried to will away his erection by thinking about Ross’s offer. He regretted telling Darcy about it the night before, but if he decided to go along with it, then she’d need to know. Her showing up with all that _tough love_, as she called it, demanding that he leave the building to get dinner with her… Well, it had been the perfect opportunity to push himself into taking a step forward. He knew what lay down that path in front of him, though. Ross’s mission, HYDRA, blood, violence, death were all waiting for him if he went forward. It all felt unavoidable.

Bucky rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He could hear her spoon hitting the ceramic bowl as she at her breakfast. Before thoughts of her stirred his cock again, he swung his legs out of the bed and sat up. Bucky tied his hair back with the elastic on his wrist before he opened the door of the bedroom to face her and the future. She’d probably want to talk about what he’d said over dinner or the fact that he’d slept in her bed, and thinking about both things made him sick to his stomach.

“Hey,” she said, turning around on the stool when she heard the door open. Her hair was in a ponytail and she had on a pair of black leggings with an oversized button-up white shirt. Her feet were still bare and resting on the rung around the stool.

“Hey,” he said, walking into the kitchen and pouring a mug of coffee she must have made before he woke. It still smelled fresh, so she couldn’t have been up that long.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he replied before leaning back against the counter and sipping his coffee. His eyes fluttered closed and for a moment everything was perfect. He was rested, the coffee was delicious, she was looking at him like she cared, and they’d slept in the same bed. Is this what married life felt like? “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Great. I woke up right before my alarm.” She turned her attention back to her bowl of cereal, and Bucky wondered if she was embarrassed or if she was actually giving him a pass on all those painful conversations he did not want to have. Either way, he was grateful.

“Thanks for last night,” he murmured before bringing the mug to his lips.

She flashed him a warm smile. “No problem, dude.”

He watched her as she finished her cereal and then he shifted a few steps to the side so she could rinse her bowl in the kitchen sink. The entire time, he wondered when she’d ask those questions she no doubt had knocking around in her head. Instead, she walked over to the tile foyer and slipped her shoes on her feet and her bag over her shoulder.

“So, we’re going to talk about the bombshell you dropped on me last night,” she said, finally looking up at him.

Bucky widened his eyes. “What bombshell?” Had he told her something in his sleep? Had he confessed his desire to put his hands—his mouth—on her?

“Ross asking you to do a solo mission.”

Oh. _Oh_. That bombshell. “Darcy, please don’t say anything to—”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “But I want to talk about it later. We’re in this together. You can’t make decisions like that without at least talking to me about it.”

“I need to—”

“Not now, dude. Not now. I had amazing sleep and a good morning, and I think you did, too. I don’t want to ruin it by listening to you tell me you’re going to go get yourself killed.”

“Darcy,” he said, putting the mug down on the counter.

“I won’t say anything to Steve and company. I promise.” She gave him a little smile. “See you after work? Maybe we can have a fight like a real married couple.”

Bucky looked down at the floor and chuckled at her sense of humor. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll pencil it in.”

* * *

**[August 2, 2018, 5:02pm]**

A phone call to Sam Wilson that afternoon resulted in a trip to the grocery store and ingredients to make red beans and rice with andouille sausage. Bucky wasn’t sure he even _liked_ the meal but caved into letting Sam buy everything necessary for it after he had to stand outside the market and listen to the man talk about it for fifteen minutes.

Steve dropped by just after five and for a moment Bucky wondered if Darcy had told his friend about Ross and the proposition to pin down HYDRA’s operations on a solo mission. Within a few seconds of Steve walking in the door, Bucky knew he was clueless. In fact, Steve was more interested in why Bucky was cooking Darcy Lewis dinner since Steve had never seen Bucky cook anyone dinner.

“Actually,” Bucky said, “Wilson cooked Darcy dinner.”

Sam knocked back the rest of his beer. “Actually, Wilson is saving your ass. How does it feel, Barnes?”

Bucky smiled. “Real good. I can take credit for the food and you did all the work.”

“What’s the credit going to get you?” Wilson asked, tossing his empty bottle in the recycling bin before lifting the lid off the pot filled with sausage, beans, onions, peppers, and a variety of spices.

“Nothin’,” he muttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable talking about what he thought of Darcy. “She just deserves more than I can give her.”

Steve looked like he wanted to say something, but he held it back. Sam clapped Bucky on the back as he walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll let you take credit for my work, but only because I like Darcy.”

“How does helping me help her?”

“She likes you. You cooking her dinner would make her feel good about herself,” Sam told him. Pointing at the pot on the stove, he said, “Let it simmer like that for another twenty minutes. Then turn the heat down to low to keep it warm until you’re ready to eat. You can throw the rice in the microwave for a few seconds if you don’t eat until later.”

“I owe you, Wilson,” Bucky said.

Sam lifted his chin up as he backed away. “Steve’s my witness. You heard him? He owes me one.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I heard him.” After Sam had shown himself out, Steve looked from the pot on the stove to Bucky. “How are things, Buck? Security said you and Darcy went out yesterday evening.”

“Can you get your nose out of my business, punk?”

“You haven’t left the building since you got here. Security thought you and her going out to dinner was a big deal.”

Bucky leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “She came in here telling me she was pulling out the tough love and how I was going to go get pizza with her or she wasn’t feeding me ever again.”

“And you just… went?”

“She’s persuasive. You heard her with Ross that first day we got here. I don’t want to be on her bad side.”

Steve chuckled. “That why you conned Sam into cooking dinner for you?”

“I did that because she deserves a night off.” Bucky left the other reason unsaid: he was trying to apologize for the way he’d handled dinner with her yesterday. She’d been excited about a nice picnic in the park with pizza and he’d dropped a fucking bomb on her that might upset her life and her deal with Steve and Tony or whoever was paying her money to pretend she liked his ass. If he died, Tony might renege on the promise to pay off her loans.

“She’s a good girl,” Steve said. “I’m glad you like her, Buck.”

Bucky dropped his gaze to the floor so he didn’t have to look at Steve’s expectant expression. He could feel Steve’s desire for Bucky to parlay the marriage with Darcy into an actual relationship. It was a pipe dream, though. That just wasn’t going to happen. “Get the hell outta here, punk. She’ll be home any minute.”

Steve hesitated for a moment before wishing Bucky luck and leaving. Bucky stood in the kitchen and stared down at his bare feet and black track pants while the minutes ticked by. After what felt like an hour, but was probably only ten minutes, he heard her open the door and pause in the doorway. “Bucky?” she called out as she walked down the short entry. “What is that smell?”

She stopped when she rounded the counter and saw him standing in the kitchen next to the stove. “Does it smell bad?” he asked her.

She sat her bag down on the floor, eyes never wavering from him. “No. It smells like heaven. What did you do?”

For a moment, he considered taking the credit, but he knew it would seem unrealistic. She’d had to walk him through how to make baked ziti. There was no way he could make something that smelled this good on his own. “I didn’t do it. I asked Sam for a little help. He’s from Louisiana and said red beans and rice is the way to go. You can thank him for dinner.”

Darcy walked over and took the lid off the pot. “I can actually thank you. You’re the one who arranged it. If you weren’t so squirrelly, I’d give you a hug. This has been a long day.”

“I ain’t squirrelly,” he said, feeling a little defensive.

“No?” she asked, replacing the lid. “Come here, then, stud.” Before he could prepare himself, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against his chest. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he whispered into the hair on the crown of her head as he loosely wrapped his arms around her body.

Just as soon she’d initiated the contact, she pulled away. “Do I need to do anything? Do you need any help?”

“Go sit down. We got wine for you. I’ll open it.”

She looked flustered and confused, like no one had ever done something like this for her before. Hadn’t there been men before him who had wined and dined her? Hadn’t there been someone before him who had treated her like she deserved? Darcy slipped up onto one of the stools and watched him uncork the wine and pour her a glass. “This is, like, the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, looking inordinately pleased.

“It’s nothing,” he said, leaning over to place the wine glass in front of her. “I felt like I should apologize for yesterday… for messing up the dinner you’d planned.”

“It’s fine. I mean, I’m the one who did it. I asked.” She took a sip of red wine. Before taking the next sip, she flicked the tip of her tongue over the rim of the wine glass to gather a drop of liquid there. The little gesture tightened the muscles in his abdomen as he remembered bits and pieces of some of her sexy books.

Sometimes it was difficult to reconcile the sweet, caring woman in front of him who was over-the-moon happy with an easy dinner at home to the kind of woman who would sit there and read those stories about passion and attraction and fucking. And love. They all had love; it wasn’t just fucking. But it wasn’t just sweet love-making either. It was salacious and interesting and sometimes all he could think about was her flat on her back in that bed working herself over with a vibrator.

“Bucky? Earth to Bucky.”

He shook his head. “What?”

She chuckled. “You were really far away. Where’d you go?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Nowhere. Just thinking. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Darcy flipped a hand in his direction. “Whatever. I’m over it. Let’s eat.”

* * *

**[August 2, 2018, 6:19pm]**

“I’m so full,” she said, flopping back onto the couch in her pajamas. Tonight they were the little red shorts that barely qualified as such with white trim around the edges and Culver spelled out in block letters across the ass. It had taken him three attempts to read it because he was self-conscious about being caught looking at his own wife’s ass. She’d paired it with an oversized white T-shirt that still didn’t do much to hide that she wasn’t wearing a bra. He put the last dish in the dishwasher before drying his hands and joining her on the couch. He left a respectable foot of space between them.

“I’ll send your compliments to Sam,” he told her, resting his head on the cushion behind him. It had been delicious, surprisingly so for how little effort Wilson had put in to make it.

They sat in silence for over a minute, both of them staring up at the ceiling of the room. Clouds had covered the clear sky from earlier, and it looked like they might have rain to end the day. “Did you decide what you’re going to do?” she asked.

He didn’t need to look at her to know what the question was referring to. “Not really,” he said.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like… like you need my permission or whatever. You don’t. I mean, we were in public so I felt like maybe as… as your wife, I needed to have a particular reaction that would be… believable.”

Bucky closed his eyes as his heart dropped right out of his chest and into the couch. Or maybe it didn’t actually do that, but it sure felt like it. He’d been so sure she cared or that she was worried about her paycheck, but really she was just playing the role better than he’d anticipated. “Right,” he said. “Yeah, I understand. I, uh, I figured that you… I figured you might also be worried about your deal with Steve if I get killed.”

“My deal with Steve?”

“The, uh, the paycheck and the loan payoff.”

She didn’t respond right away. He turned his head to glance over when she said, “That never occurred to me, actually. I was… I was trying to sound like your wife would when we were out there, but…” Darcy shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“But what, sweetheart?”

“It’s nothing. What you do—that is your choice. I don’t get a say.”

“We’re in this together, sweetheart. You _do_ get a say. You put your life on hold for me. You get up every night and sit with me when I can’t sleep. You bought me clothes and you cook me dinner and you never make me feel like shit when I can’t even take you to the park without messing everything up. You get a fucking say, believe me.” By the time he was finished, he was sitting up, his body angled in her direction.

“Bucky…”

“Say what you were going to say, sweetheart. Please.” He wasn’t sure why he needed to hear what was on her mind, but he knew he’d regret not pushing her.

Darcy winced. “I was just going to say that it wasn’t all just me putting on an act for whoever might be listening. I’m scared for you. I’m scared and I don’t want you to go, but… But, but that’s just a shitty thing for me to tell you. You know? Because this is your life and you need to make your own decisions. I’m not… I don’t have a right to tell you what you can and can’t do. Like, I get it. If I could save thousands of people, maybe more, by doing something I was good at then… I’d probably do it. It’s just… you could get hurt. You could die.” Her voice quivered at the end there. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Bucky didn’t want to see her cry, and he never wanted her to feel the way she was feeling. And yet, the relief that he actually meant something—no matter how small—to her felt like a drug that temporarily wiped out every ounce of pain he’d had. For a brief moment, he was flying high on the fact that she cared.

“I don’t want to go either, Darcy. I can’t just stand by and watch them kill people if I can do something to stop it, though.”

She blinked and a fat tear rolled down her cheek. “It feels like a suicide mission.” Her admission seemed to open the floodgates. Darcy wrapped her arms around her midsection and doubled over as she started crying. “It feels like they’re trying to get rid of you and you’re just… you’re just going to… That you’re okay just… I don’t want you to go get yourself killed.”

The strength of her reaction made Bucky freeze. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but all he could seem to do was sit there beside her and watch her cry and bury her face in her hands. She kept apologizing and telling him she didn’t want him to die.

Darcy pulled in a ragged, breath of air that broke his trance. Gingerly, he reached out and took her face in his hands. “Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. Darcy. Hey.” She wrapped her fingers around his wrists as he cradled her wet face in his palms. “It ain’t a suicide mission, sweetheart. It’s dangerous and I can’t promise anything, but I ain’t trying to off myself.”

She pulled in another hiccupping breath. “You swear?”

“Swear I’m going to do my best to come back in one piece? Yeah, I promise.”

“You don’t… you aren’t trying to hurt yourself?”

“No, sweetheart. _No_.”

She pulled away from him and lifted her shirt to hastily wipe the tears off her face. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” she said. “I just…” Darcy exhaled sharply and shook her head before she stood up and walked into the bathroom. He heard her sniffling in there too, still crying, still upset.

The water ran and then stopped, but she never stopped crying. Bucky closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breath, but it was difficult when the sound of her tears made him feel like he had a two-ton weight on his chest. Why would she be so upset over him? They’d known each other a month.

After an unsuccessful attempt at calming breaths, he pushed himself off the couch and went to find her. “Darcy?” he asked, pushing the cracked bathroom door open the rest of the way.

She was on the toilet with the lid down. Her eyes were red and there were fresh tears on her face. “Sweetheart, those can’t all be for me,” he whispered, standing in the door.

Darcy laughed as she hugged herself. “I’m sorry, dude. I think I might have unloaded some of my baggage on you.”

“Baggage?”

“I’m, like, slightly fucked up, maybe,” she admitted, lifting a hand and holding her index finger and thumb half an inch apart. “Just a little.”

Bucky stepped into the small space and dropped to one knee in front of her. “What are you talking about?”

She sniffed and wiped her face with her shirt again. “Fuck,” Darcy muttered. “I’m so fucking stupid. Why am I still like this? It’s been over ten years.”

He put his right hand on her bare knee. “Talk to me, doll.”

Darcy gave him a sweet smile even though another tear rolled down her cheek. “Umm, well. Okay. Okay. I’ll give you the abridged version.” Clearing her throat, she said, “My parents divorced when I was six, I think. Things weren’t great, but they weren’t terrible. I had three older brothers—one in college and two in high school. They took care of me a lot. It wasn’t until they and all went away to college that I realized why they took care of me. My, uh, my mom had never been, like, a typical mom. Sometimes she’d stay in bed for a couple days and we’d make dinner ourselves. Stuff like that. Anyway…” She smiled, but it looked so strained on her beautiful face. “Looking back, I realize she had depression. Like, clinical depression, but I didn’t know that as a kid. She’d go on and off different meds, but when she started feeling better, she’d stop taking them and the cycle would start over. It was just… It sucked.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Darcy.

She put her hand over his on her knee. “My dad tried to help. My oldest brother tried to help, but they had their own lives and… I would lie to them about how my mom was doing because I wanted her to be okay. So when I saw them, I’d just say she was good. I’d make up stories about how she’d take me to the park, but they were just stories.” Darcy closed her eyes. “When I was a junior in high school… When I was a junior in high school she, ummm… She, she…”

“Hey,” Bucky said, knowing what was coming because of that sinking feeling in his stomach. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it.”

“She, uh, used a knife to cut her wrists. She put a sign on the door for me not to come inside and to call the police. But, I… I, uh, went inside and found her in the bathtub and… Yeah.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “So, I moved in with my dad and ran away to college as soon as I could. And then I ran away with Jane. And then you happened and after we moved in here I saw how… I saw how you were struggling and it wasn’t really like how my mom struggled, but there were things that reminded me of that and I just wanted to help. I thought maybe I could help this time, you know? I thought maybe I could do it right this time.”

She tilted her head back and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks, turning around her chin before running down her neck. They were all Bucky could see.

Darcy sniffed again. “When you said Ross wanted to send you on this mission alone… I thought you were giving up and…”

“I know,” he whispered when she didn’t finish. “You thought I was going to go and get myself killed.”

“Yep,” she said.

“That ain’t what this is about, Darcy.”

“I know. You aren’t my mom. I know that. I just… my brain is fucked up and it makes these stupid fucking connections sometimes. You aren’t my do-over for my mom. You don’t have to tell me that.”

“You mom wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

She nodded, but when she blinked there were just more tears. “I know. It’s just… hard to make your brain tell your heart what to believe.”

He squeezed her knee and she gave an abrupt laugh followed by a squeal as she turned away. “Don’t, I’m ticklish there,” she told him, smiling for real this time.

“Yeah? Where else are you ticklish?”

Darcy held up a hand, warning him away. “Don’t you dare. I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

He laughed and reached up to take the wrist of her raised hand, turning it aside. “I’m not suicidal. I don’t want to die. And I promise I’ll be careful if I go on this mission. I promise I’ll do everything I can to come back to you in one piece. Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“Can I do anything else to make you feel better?” His stupid fucking brain buzzed over the question he’d just asked her. Could he kiss her? Could he carry her off to bed and put his mouth on every inch of her body? Could he curl around her as they slept together, maybe wake up with her next to him? Would any of that make her feel better?

She scrunched up her nose. “Anything, huh?”

His heart jumped into this throat. “Anything,” Bucky replied on a soft exhale, looking up at her.

“How about ice cream from that place a few blocks up? We could sit outside until it gets dark.” She winced. “Is that too much?”

Ice cream. Of course. What was he thinking? “No, it’s not too much. Let’s go get ice cream.”

* * *

**[August 7, 2018, 9:32am]**

Bucky felt just a little sick to his stomach as he knocked on Steve’s door. His friend answered with wet hair and no shirt. “You just get back from your morning run?” Bucky asked.

Steve stepped back. “Yeah. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I, uh, I came to tell you I’m leaving for, uh, Montana tomorrow. I just need… some space. Darcy found this place on the internet and it’s this, uh, two-week getaway.”

Steve raised his brows? “Yeah? She’s going with you?”

“No. She’s, uh, she’s staying here for work. I just need some time on my own. You know?” Bucky could see the gears turning in Steve’s brain as he weighed the story he was being fed and what to think of it.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he said after a long pause. “Is, uh… Does Ross and the—”

“Yep,” Bucky replied. “We told Ross and his people. Got it cleared. I’m leaving tomorrow. Should be back in a couple weeks.”

Steve looked at him—really _looked_ at him. For a fleeting moment, he worried that Steve could see right through the lie, but after a couple of beats, Steve smiled and said, “Good. You need a ride?”

“No, it’s covered. Besides, you might need the quinjet for a mission. I don’t want to tie it up.”

“Okay,” Steve replied. “You’ll call if you need anything, right?”

“Right.”

“You sure you’re okay, Buck?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side.

Bucky scoffed and turned away for a moment, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants. “I’m fine, Steve. I just need some time to clear my head,” he said when he was facing Steve again.

“Darcy’s good?”

“Darcy’s great. You know that. She’s… more than I could have asked for.”

“Told you she was your type,” Steve said.

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t get any wild ideas, punk. It’s just for show. Me and her—that ain’t ever going to happen.”

“Why?”

“Because this is too fucked up of a situation for anything real to come out of it. She’s a great girl, but I can’t drag her into this any further. Hell, she’ll probably want out after this year is up.”

“You’ve only been with her for a month and you’re cooking her dinner.”

“_Sam_ cooked her dinner,” Bucky corrected.

“Yeah, yeah. We both know you’re sweet on her.”

“Don’t do this, Steve. Don’t play around with her or me like this. I know you mean well, but—”

“Okay,” Steve said, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, Buck. I just thought you two would like each other and something good might come outta this mess.”

“She deserves better than what I got to offer. It took me a month to go out to dinner with her, and when I did, she paid and we ate on a park bench.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think she cares much about that kind of stuff.”

“She don’t, but she deserves better. Besides, she’s probably counting the days until she can be free of my ass.”

“I don’t know about that,” Steve said.

* * *

**[August 7, 2018, 4:03pm**

She came home early when she got his message that he’d be leaving the next morning. He’d told her two days prior that he was going to accept Ross’ mission. She’d not been surprised, but she’d not been happy either. He’d heard her crying in bed that night.

Since he’d fallen asleep next to her the week before, Bucky and Darcy had developed a routine that neither of them dared to verbalize. They’d watch television until she fell asleep, and then he’d carry her into the bedroom and crawl into bed with her. He always woke before her and was safely showered and dressed with coffee in hand by the time she roused. Both of them knew what was happening—that they were sleeping in the same bed now—but she didn’t mention it and Bucky sure as hell wasn’t going to either. Neither of them mentioned that his nightmares had almost disappeared and it was glaringly obvious that was due to the new sleeping arrangements.

That night he’d told her he was going on the mission had been a little different, though. That night, she’d slipped into the bedroom and cried into her pillow. He’d followed her soon after and they both fell asleep facing each other, but not touching.

“Hey,” she said as she sat her bag down on the floor. “I got your text. I didn’t realize they’d want to move so quickly.” Her eyes were wide with a nervous look to them.

“I got the call right after you left,” he said, turning away from his spot next to the window to talk to her.

“What did you tell Steve?”

“What we talked about. That I’m going on a retreat in Montana. I told him you have my contact info.”

She sat down on the couch and rubbed her eyes. Black flecks of her mascara smudged across her cheeks. “What if he asks me for it or asks me to call you.”

“Lie and say you did. He can’t know what I’m doing or he won’t allow it.”

“Bucky, maybe it’s not such a good idea if your own friend wouldn’t let you do it.”

He sat down on the other end of the couch, angling his body towards her. “He’ll want to help, but he can’t. This is a one-man job. Steve’ll want to engage them if we actually find them. We need to be smart about this and figure out what they’re capable of.”

“So, you’re just spying, not fighting. Right?”

“That’s the goal.”

She picked at the frayed denim of her distressed jeans. “I’m afraid for you. I don’t want you to get hurt. I wish there was a way I could call you or you could check in.”

“I’m gonna be fine, sweetheart.”

“That doesn’t make me worry less.”

He smiled at her. “I know. It’ll be fine. In and out of three locations. I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll leave Ross’ card here and you can beat him up if you need more info.” He studied her face as she picked at the threads around the hole in her jeans. “This ain’t a suicide mission, Darcy. I ain’t leaving you.”

“I know that,” she murmured.

“Your mom didn’t leave you either.”

She visibly flinched at that comment, and he regretted making it almost instantly. “It feels like she did.”

“Did you ever talk to anyone about it? Back then?”

“My dad made me go see a therapist during my senior year. I wasn’t… Well, I wasn’t the best patient because I didn’t want to go. I thought I knew everything back then. I was so mad at her and everything. Fast forward ten years and I realize I don’t know shit now and I knew even less back then.”

“Sam could probably help, you know,” he said. “He did a lot of outreach in the military for PTSD and—”

“You know,” she interrupted. “You’re right. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll go talk to someone about my baggage if you go talk to someone about yours.” It could have sounded combative, but it didn’t. It was an honest and pure offer to support him if he supported her.

“I got a lot more baggage than you, sweetheart.”

“Then it sounds like I’m doing you a favor since you need this more than I do.”

He chuckled before looking away and nodding. “Okay. Deal. You pick the time and place and we’ll go together. Do they do back-to-back sessions? I’ll read one of your books while I wait for you.”

Darcy groaned. “I thought you’d given up on them.”

“I still have three more of your favorites to read,” he replied, flashing her a smile.

* * *

**[August 7, 2018, 11:23pm]**

Darcy drank a bottle of wine before they ate leftovers for dinner. She was passed out with her head resting on his shoulder by ten o’clock. He stayed that way for over an hour, committing the evening to his memory. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled at him, the taste of her dinner from the night before, the scent of her hair and the warmth of her pressed up against his right side. Just before eleven-thirty, he carried her into the bedroom and laid her in the middle of the mattress. She reached out and grabbed his arms before he could shift away. With absolutely no grace, he tumbled onto the bed beside her and found himself pinned down on his back a moment later when she rolled halfway on top of him. One leg was thrown over his while her arm snaked around his waist and her head settled in the crook of his shoulder.

Bucky closed his eyes and did what he’d been doing for years—shut off those parts of his brain that felt simmering anxiety over leaving, over possibly confronting HYDRA after all this time, over violence and death, over leaving her.

Leaving _her_. How was that part of his list? He’d met her one month ago when they’d eaten dinner together and spent a sleepless night trying to convince one another that this would all be okay. Well, she’d done most of the convincing. He drifted off to memories of that first night together when they sat in a bed and invented a shared past to build their future on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky won't be gone long from the page. But we might have a little bit of an argument coming up...


	19. Chapter 19

> _”I didn’t hear you leave. I wonder how am I still here. And I don’t want to move a thing. It might change my memory.” - Dido (Here With Me)_

**[August 23, 2018, 1:47am]**

Darcy tried to slow her breathing in an effort to slow the galloping of her heart as she sat in the middle of the bed. The apartment was dark, only illuminated by the pale moonlight coming through the sheer curtains. Only a moment before, she’d rocketed out of sleep, a nightmare on her heels. Bucky had been due back yesterday, but the day had come and gone without a word. Now he was dying in her sleep and she was lying to everyone she knew—Steve, Shuri, Sam, Natasha. All of them thought Bucky was at a retreat in Montana. Darcy wondered if Natasha suspected something. If she did, Nat kept it to herself.

What if he’s been captured? What if he’s dead? Her thoughts raced like this at night. She pulled up the app on her phone that connected her to a therapist. She’d registered with the program shortly after Bucky had left two weeks ago. The realization that she’d been hanging her hopes of fixing what happened with her mother on some guy she barely knew made Darcy feel out-of-control and ashamed.

Her breath was ragged and audible as she inhaled and exhaled. She swiped the tears on her cheeks off her face and concentrated on typing a message to the therapist she’d been matched with. Her thumbs flew over the small keyboard on her phone and she poured out her nightmare of Bucky’s capture and beheading. The therapist had gotten the real story, except for the part about Bucky being, well, Bucky. Dr. Carper thought Darcy’s husband was in the military on a top-secret mission. She also thought Darcy had been married for a year. Darcy wondered if Dr. Carper would think of her differently if she knew the real story—that Darcy had met, married, and fallen for a guy she’d known a month.

She hit the button to send the message to her therapist and closed the app. Feeling restless, Darcy slipped out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway to look at the empty couch and his sheet folded neatly on the armrest. What if he never came back? What if she was fucking crazy for feeling this way about him?

Instead of getting a glass of water as she’d intended, Darcy ended up lying down on the couch and pulling his sheet over her.

* * *

**[August 26, 2018, 2:07am]**

Darcy woke with a start, listening for whatever noise her mind had convinced her she’d heard. There was nothing. The apartment was silent save for the small bedside fan whirring on the nightstand. She rolled over and turned it off, listening again. Nothing. Flipping it back on, she flopped back into bed and rubbed her face. It would be three weeks in a few days and she felt like maybe she’d go crazy for lack of information. Or maybe she’d just have a panic attack. Ross wouldn’t give her anything other than an assurance that, to his knowledge, Bucky was not dead. That wasn’t really much to go on because it left so many other horrible possibilities on the table and cluttered up in her brain. She’d told herself yesterday that at the three-week mark she was going to tell Steve regardless of what Bucky or Ross wanted. If Bucky had been captured, then Steve was the only hope of getting him back.

She closed her eyes and did the breathing exercise her therapist had given her. Just as she could feel herself drifting off, she felt the bed dip. She jerked away from the intruder, eyes wide and mouth open to scream.

“Hey, it’s me,” he whispered, one knee on the mattress as he leaned over her.

Darcy didn’t even think about her actions when she saw Bucky’s face illuminated by the moonlight or when she heard his soft voice. She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. “Bucky,” she said, her voice loud in the small space. “Oh my god, you’re alive.”

He smelled of sweat, but it was the sweetest smell she could think of because it meant he was back and safe. Or at least she thought he was. Darcy pulled away and held him out at arm’s length, running her eyes over him, searching for evidence that he’d been injured. “I’m okay,” he murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m okay.”

“I was so fucking worried,” she said, letting go of him and sitting back on her heels as she kneeled on the bed. She was suddenly aware of how she’d so casually and enthusiastically thrown herself all over him. How embarrassing.

He sat down on the mattress and gave her a soft smile. “I’m sorry I worried you, sweetheart. They caught wind of me in Bukhara and I needed to lay low. I missed the extraction and had to wait for them to arrange it again.”

“Did you find what you needed?”

His shoulders slumped. “Not really. We know more than we knew before, but… we don’t know where they have the weaponized suits.”

“But you’re back. I’m so glad you’re back.”

Bucky chuckled. “I’m so glad to be back. Especially when I get to come back to enthusiastic hugs.”

“Sorry. I’m not respectful of personal boundaries when I’ve been worried about someone for almost three weeks. Shit happens.”

“You’re okay. Although, I don’t think I’m okay. I haven’t showered for four days.” He looked down at his attire.

For the first time since he’d woken her, she looked at his clothes and realized there was dirt down the side of his black tactical pants. His black T-shirt was ripped at the shoulder, exposing some of his vibranium arm. “Did you just get back?”

“Yeah. I had a debriefing with Ross at nineteen hundred. It took hours before they released me and dropped me off here.” He pushed himself out of bed and brushed at the sheets. “Sorry, I got them dirty. I should have taken a shower before I came to check on you.”

“Hey, I’m the one who pulled you into bed, and I have no regrets.”

He stood there by the side of the bed, looking down at her and another thought occurred to Darcy. She hadn’t done laundry in almost two weeks. She was wearing one of his shirts because she didn’t have much left in the clean clothing department. It had nothing to do with missing him. Nothing.

“I, uh, haven’t done laundry so I borrowed your shirt.”

She saw the shadow of his Adam’s apple as it moved when he swallowed. “I see that.”

She didn’t have pants on. She was in bed. In his shirt. Without pants. And she’d nearly tackled him when he came to tell her he was home. Nice. She felt her cheeks heat with a blush. “Sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, doll. You’re good. Fine. Perfect. I’m just…” He jutted his thumb out and pointed it over his shoulder. “I’m gonna grab a shower.”

“Hungry?” she asked him.

“Tired,” Bucky replied, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head.

She tried not to gawk, but it was difficult. “Umm, okay. If you, uh, if you decide you want food, I can heat up some leftover Chinese in the fridge. Sweet and sour chicken with fried rice.”

He pulled off his socks and tossed them in the floor. “Nah, I just want to sleep. Didn’t get much while I was out, and I spent the last forty-eight hours on my toes.”

“Shit, Bucky. Are you serious?”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me,” he told her as he rummaged through the two drawers where he stored his clothes. The muscles in his back were defined, and it was difficult to look away when he was so gorgeous and so _alive_ after worrying he was dead somewhere far away. He turned around, almost catching her staring. “Go back to sleep, Darcy.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

He gave her a warm smile that crinkled up the corners of his eyes. “I might know, actually. Probably about as happy as I am to see you.”

Darcy didn’t know what to say to that, but he didn’t give her much of a chance to respond. With his clean clothes shoved under his arm, he slipped out of the bedroom in search of the shower. She shifted and rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. She could hear the faint sound of running water. The noise comforted her because it meant he was there with her and he was _safe_.

She flipped the covers over her body so he wouldn’t see his T-shirt riding up her thighs when he walked back in the room. If he hadn’t thought she was an obsessive weirdo before, then he surely did now. Either way, he was probably going to sleep on the couch. He didn’t just come to bed with her. They had their routine. She’d fall asleep on the couch and he’d sneak into bed with her during the night. She would have thought her mind was playing tricks on her if it weren’t for the depression in the pillow next to her and the rumpled sheets on the bed. They never talked about sleeping in the same bed. If they talked about it, then it would be real.

The water turned off and she waited for him to settle in on the couch. She’d go out there and sit down with him in a moment. She’d try her best to fall asleep on his shoulder so he’d come to lie down in bed with her. Minutes ticked by and they felt like hours. Finally, she heard him coming down the hall. A shadow crossed the doorway before he walked in with wet hair and a pair of sweatpants riding low on his hips.

“You know I sleep in here with you, right?” he murmured, looking down at her. “After you fall asleep on the couch with me.”

“I know,” she said, rolling onto her side to face him.

“Could I… Would you let…”

She flipped the covers back. “Get in,” she told him. “I was going to come out there and fall asleep on you so you’d come in here anyway.”

Bucky chuckled and slipped under the covers before he turned on his side to face Darcy. “I missed you,” he whispered.

She smiled and tried to put a damper on those butterflies in her stomach. “I missed you more. I was so worried, Bucky.”

“Don’t be. You know, I didn’t really want to do it, but the mission was good. Well, it wasn’t great to be doing it, but it helped me realize that I can do this kind of thing without breaking down. Sam calls it compartmentalization.”

Darcy nodded. “Sure. You section off your brain so you can do things you couldn’t otherwise do. It’s a coping mechanism. We all do it in some way or another. I think anyone who has seen combat or super violent acts and can still function like a normal human being probably compartmentalizes like a pro.” She shifted a little closer. “You said you didn’t get what you wanted on the mission.”

“I slipped into three of their bases that I was already familiar with. The tech they have wasn’t in any of them. One of the facilities was actually abandoned. I was able to get some more info on other locations we weren’t aware of. Ross and his team will start surveillance on those places.”

“That’s good, right?”

He flicked his tongue out to wet his lips. “Yeah. It’s something. Better than nothing, I guess.”

“How were you, though? Were you okay?”

“Yeah. It was a little tricky there for a bit, but… it was okay. It was good. I feel more confident now. Before I thought I was going to freeze up or lose control or… whatever, you know. Now I know I can do what I need to do.”

She smiled. “Good.”

“It wasn’t a walk in the garden, though. I haven’t slept much. The nightmares are… bad.”

“You don’t have them when you sleep here, though. Do you?”

“Here in this bed?”

“Yeah.”

He stared back, something unfamiliar in his eyes. “I don’t have them when I’m near you.”

His reply took whatever she was going to say right out of her mouth. “Oh,” she said, staring back with wide eyes. After too many beats of silence, she said, “Then close your eyes and go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

* * *

**[August 26, 2018, 3:58am]**

She woke to what felt like an earthquake, but she wasn’t on the right coast of the country for something like that to be commonplace. It took her only a couple seconds to realize the bed was moving and it was doing so because Bucky was kicking his legs out. He opened his mouth and let out a wordless cry.

She knew better than to reach for him. He was strong and he could probably toss her right through the wall if he really wanted. “Bucky,” she said softly. “Bucky, I’m here. It’s Darcy. You’re here with me in our apartment and we’re both safe. We’re safe. We’re alone. I’m here and we’re safe.”

He stilled, but his chest was still rising and falling rapidly like he’d just run a race.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as she shifted a little closer. Bucky’s gasp of surprise when he opened his eyes made Darcy jerk away for a moment. “Hey,’ she whispered when she realized he was fully conscious.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked immediately.

“No. You didn’t even touch me.”

“Fuck, doll. I’m sorry. I… I’ll go sleep on the—”

“Nope,” she told him, reaching out and wrapping an arm around him. It brought Darcy into contact with a large portion of his shirtless torso. “You’re staying right here.”

He gave a half-hearted attempt to move her arm, but she wouldn’t budge. Instead, Darcy hooked a leg over his. “Sweetheart,” he said, trying to slide away. She could tell it was just a protest for show. If he’d wanted to leave, then he’d have been gone.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

“Darcy, you can’t be this close or you might get hurt.”

“I trust you,” she told him. “Now, go back to sleep. I’m tired, too.’

He sighed, but he did as she’d told him. His tense muscles relaxed and he let her mold herself to the side of his body. After a moment, he shifted to extend his right arm so she could lay her head in the crook of his shoulder.

She made herself comfortable and squeezed him. “This is nice,” Darcy said.

“Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. “It is.”

His easy acceptance took her by surprise. “I thought you’d want your space when sleeping.”

“Depends on who is next to me.”

She felt that thrill pulse through her at his words. “You must be feeling better. You’re being a cheesy flirt.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” he murmured, eyes closing.

“And how do you know that?”

“Your heart speeds up sometimes.”

Darcy groaned. “Wait, you can _hear_ that?”

“Mmm, hmm, when you’re almost on top of me, I can.”

“Doesn’t that drive you batty?”

“Nah,” he said, yawning and pulling her closer. “It’s nice. Relaxing.”

* * *

**[August 26, 2018, 10:58pm]**

Steve and Sam had just left. Bucky had called them to let them know he was back in town. Darcy had seen the strain in him as he lied to both of them about his trip to Montana. She’d done everything she could to divert the conversation during dinner to other things. Steve was irritable about the lack of information on HYDRA. They’d received word about an incident in a rural province in China a week before, but when they got there they found a building that seemed to have been blown up, but not much else. The local authorities had already retrieved the bodies of the eleven people who had died but refused to allow the American government or the Avengers access to the autopsies or police reports. Tony was convinced that it was another attempt to utilize the suits and Steve seemed to agree.

“What do you think?” she asked, letting herself fall back onto the couch right next to Bucky. He lifted his arm up so he could lay it over her shoulders as she leaned into his side.

“About what?”

“About the situation in China.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and before glancing over at her. “It wasn’t Tony’s tech that did that.”

“How do you know?”

Bucky gave her another look, brows raised.

“Oh,” Darcy said, taking the hint. “Was that you?”

“It was a small operation, but definitely HYDRA. They were manufacturing pieces to make another suit. Nothing that couldn’t be done anywhere, nothing special or top-secret, just pieces of metal.”

“Tony is using nanotech now,” she said.

“Right. What they have is outdated, but it’s still dangerous.”

“So, you blew it up?”

“My orders were to take the blueprints they had and eliminate all witnesses.”

Darcy winched. “Fuck, dude.”

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t… I got the data out of their computer system and was going to get out of there, but they engaged me, shot at me a few times. I retreated, but they pursued and… it was me or them. I didn’t… I couldn’t leave without going through them.”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Bucky. Those guys were working on shit that is being used to kill lots of people. I mean, if they were making another suit, then… then you did what needed to be done.”

“I know, sweetheart. I just… I don’t like it.”

“That just means you’re a good guy, Bucky. You shouldn’t like it, but you’re fighting for the right side. You’re fighting for the side that is standing between terrorists who want to kill innocent people and everyone else.”

He leaned his head back onto the couch cushion and stared at the ceiling. “They had three women and two kids locked in a cage. My Mandarin isn’t good at all. I only caught a few words here and there, but I think they were slave labor taken from the nearest village. I let them go before I blew the place up. I didn’t… I didn’t want to kill anyone, but after finding those kids in a cell like that—it made it easier. You know?”

“For sure,” Darcy replied.

“If anyone asks you what I told you, though… If Ross or Tafford or anyone says anything to you, don’t mention the women and kids. I didn’t… didn’t report it. The orders were to eliminate all witnesses. The D.O.D. is trying to keep a tight lid on this and letting five witnesses go to spread the word probably isn’t what Ross wanted.”

Her stomach flipped over. “Do you think… Do you think they’d actually have you kill innocent people?”

“I want to say no, but… I don’t know, Darcy,” Bucky said, lifting his head and looking over at her. “I’ve got a skewed idea of authority and orders and… and I’ve been told the ends justify the means one too many times. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but… I don’t want to be in a position where I’m disobeying a direct order. So, I just… omit.”

He looked worried that she was going to judge him or disapprove of how he handled the situation. Darcy reached up and quickly pinched the tip of his nose. “You’re a good guy. You know that, right?”

“You think?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curving up slightly.

“I know.”

There was softness and there was intimacy to the way he was looking at her. “Thanks, sweetheart. That means a lot to me,” he murmured.

“Do you remember your nightmares?” she asked.

“Sometimes,” he replied.

“Do you remember the one from last night?”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the couch again. “Yeah.”

“Would you tell me about it or is that… too much?” She held her breath as she watched his chest rise and fall three times before he answered.

Bucky’s head was still leaned back and resting on the cushion. His eyes were still closed. “I killed the prisoners in China. I set the bomb before I let them out. I realized too late. I couldn’t… I couldn’t save them. I was running, but I couldn’t move fast enough.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and sighed. “It was just a nightmare.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I appreciate you… being there for me. You don’t have to do that kind of stuff, you know. It isn’t part of the deal. Making sure I’m okay isn’t what you’re getting paid for.”

“I know. I want to do that kind of stuff.”

He exhaled and shifted so he could look down at her. Darcy looked up at him. Flashing her a wistful smile, Bucky shook his head and tilted it back so he could stare at the ceiling. “Thanks for your help with Steve. I don’t really like lying to him.”

“Is it necessary now? Why don’t you just tell him where you were? He doesn’t seem like the kind who would hold a grudge against you.”

“I might not be done.”

Darcy felt the bottom fall out of her stomach. “What?”

He exhaled audibly. “I might not be done. The information we found in China might lead us to where they’re keeping the power source of these suits. Once the initial footwork is done by the N.S.A. and C.I.A., they could send me in.”

“Bucky, are you sure about this? I thought it was a one and done kind of situation?”

“We’ll see,” was his only response. His tone made it clear he didn’t want to discuss it with her right then, possibly never.

She poked his side. “Will you at least talk to someone? A therapist?”

He lifted his head. “I can’t tell anyone what is going on, not with the missions, not with you. What’s the use?”

“You don’t have to talk about those things. Talk about the past.” Before he could open his mouth, she placed her fingertips over his lips to forestall what he was about to say. “I know you said you’re working through it and you’re moving on, but I don’t think you’ve really dealt with all that stuff. You know? I mean, we were just talking about compartmentalizing. It helps you cope, but it just delays you having to deal with that bad shit sometimes. You put it in a box and you stick it in the back of your fucking head and then one day you realize the box somehow got open and the bad shit in it leaked all over your nice life.” She looked up at Bucky and the wiry hair that made up his beard. “Speaking from experience.”

“Yeah?”

“The shit with my mom leaked all over you. Sorry. You’re like a whole other box of goodies.”

He chuckled. “I’m a box.”

“Mmm, hmm. A nice, big package.” She couldn’t contain the giggles that came right after she said it.

Bucky started laughing, too. “Are you flirting with one of your boxes?” he murmured.

“I am, but only because Sam gave me that third glass of wine.” She poked his side. “Also, stop distracting me. Therapist. What say you?”

“Darcy…”

“Bucky…” she said, mimicking his pleading tone. “Ask Sam to hook you up with someone you can trust. I’m not saying you should tell them about the top-secret missions or that we’re faking it, but you could tell them about everything else. There’s a lot to unpack there.”

“You don’t think I should talk to Tafford?”

“Fuck, no,” she replied, making him chuckle again. “I don’t trust that guy. I still feel like he and Ross are up to something.”

Bucky kicked a leg out and shifted his ass to settle down further into the couch. “Yeah, I agree. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“Watch your back when I’m not around to watch it,” Darcy told him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, what about this therapist?”

He groaned. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, okay,” he relented. “I’ll talk to Sam tomorrow and see if he can point me toward someone he trusts.”

* * *

**[August 30, 2018, 5:56pm]**

She’d had a good day at work. This was due in large part to her smug pride over the deft way she’d gamed the system. Darcy couldn’t get the idea that Bucky had or would agree to missions only because he had no source of income out of her head. Whether that was true or not, she had no idea. However, it couldn’t feel good to be an adult with no employment and no way to just go out and get a job since you were a war hero with a dark past as a brainwashed assassin for the terrorist organization who had just pulled off the worst mass murder since 9-11. It was a resume killer for sure.

So, she’d devised a plan that had played out over the past month. It involved dropping hints and then making outright threats to schedule interviews for Bucky to tell his side of the tragic story. She had more than enough newspapers and network news programs that were willing to pay handsomely for a sit-down with James Buchanan Barnes. Darcy was sure to tell her contacts at the Department of Defense that Bucky was considering exclusive interviews in order to pay his bills since he wasn’t on the payroll. It took two weeks, but they eventually caved and agreed to a modest salary deposited on a monthly basis in a new bank account opened for him. The last thing they needed was Bucky going public with his story. Darcy bet public opinion would side with him if people knew the full story.

Not only had she pulled off that miracle, but she’d finally taken the plunge and sent a deposit on a lakeside cabin in Michigan. The place was as secluded as you could get and without another house in sight. Darcy was almost sure Bucky would be willing to get away with her. Almost. There was always a chance he’d think she was being ridiculous for dropping over a grand on the little place for a week’s vacation. She was prepared to tell him she’d spend her salary however she felt. It wasn’t like she didn’t need a break, too. Being the Avenger’s media buffer was a tiring job.

She used the side entrance to their building and waited for the elevator with sandwiches from his favorite deli in a bag dangling from her wrist. Darcy hummed a terrible song she’d heard in the deli, watching the numbers on the display count down until the doors open. Her stomach dropped into the floor when she saw General Ross and two men flanking him exit the car.

“Mrs. Barnes,” he said, nodding in her direction, but not saying anything further.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“That’s classified,” he told her, face impassive.

“He’s my husband,” Darcy snapped back. “We don’t have secrets.”

“Then you can ask your husband.” With that said, he walked off.

Darcy felt like throwing up in the corner of the elevator as she rode up to the floor she and Bucky lived on. He was standing in the kitchen, head bowed and his hands braced on the counter when she walked into their home.

“Hey,” she said, softly.

He looked up, surprised to see her there. He must have been so deep in his own head that he wasn’t even aware of his surroundings. That wasn’t good at all. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“I saw Ross leaving. What’s going on?”

“Mission. They think HYDRA has been working with factions within the Chinese government to develop and produce power supplies and armor to make additional suits like Tony’s first Iron Man one. The C.I.A. and MI6 have corroborating evidence of potential HYDRA activity outside of Beijing and Shanghai. They’ve tried to infiltrate or slip in undetected, but weren’t successful.”

“I don’t like this, Bucky. I don’t… Something doesn’t feel right. Ross should be taking this to the Avengers, not to you like it’s some fucking secret.”

“It’s a delicate situation,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, I know. But, come on. Steve and Tony and the lot of them? They’re better than good. They aren’t stupid and this is big. If HYDRA is in cahoots with the Chinese government then… That’s no good, dude.”

“I know, sweetheart. That’s just another reason why this is delicate. We don’t need to be starting the third world war.”

She closed her eyes. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you?”

“I told him to give me a day to think about it. I told him I wanted to talk to you.”

She opened her eyes to find him in front of her. “I don’t want you to do it, but I can’t tell you not to.”

His smile was sad, broken. “It’ll be more dangerous than the last mission.”

Darcy nodded. “Yeah, I got that part.”

“I think I can do it. I feel like… I feel like maybe I can do good. Like maybe these things I can do can be used to help.”

“You don’t have to do something like this to prove that, Bucky.”

“What if I need to prove it? What if I need to prove it to _myself_?”

Wearily, she sat the bag with their dinner in it on the counter. “I wish you could see yourself how Steve sees you. Or how I see you.”

“You can’t see all of me,” he whispered.

“You can’t see all of yourself either,” she said, not missing a beat.

Her reply seemed to throw him off. Bucky floundered for a response. “Steve asked me to come back, to stop hiding. I’m trying to do that.”

Darcy felt all the good vibes from her day just slipping away as her shoulders slumped. “I know, I know. I just… want you to be safe. I don’t want to worry about you dying out there or being captured and hurt.”

He lifted a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear. “If I don’t come back, then you can move on with your life. You can find a guy who is worth being married to—a guy who will be a real husband to you.”

She felt a flash of white-hot anger. “Fuck that and fuck you, dude. Oh my god, that’s so… so… obnoxious. I’m telling you that I fucking care about you and your reaction is that I should just not, that I should be happy you’re gone so I can find a dude who actually wants to be married to me? _Fuck you_.”

He looked panicked for a moment. “I… I didn’t—”

“Think? You didn’t _think_? No, you didn’t.” She put her hands on her hips. “Did you get the name of a therapist from Sam? Because you really need one. Your fucking compartments are leaking all over me and I don’t appreciate it.”

He turned away from her and took two steps further into the kitchen. Running his hand through his hair, he laughed. It sounded frustrated instead of amused. “Yeah, I have an appointment with someone.” After turning around and watching her for a long moment, Bucky said, “I don’t want to fight with you about this, Darcy. Can we just… shelve it for tonight and eat dinner, maybe watch the last few episodes of Battlestar Galactica?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Fine.”

“You don’t sound like you think it’s fine.”

“I don’t, but I don’t want to argue either. And it’s… I mean, I shouldn’t be telling you what to do. I just… wish you didn’t want to go.”

“I _don’t_. I want to stay here with you, but there is a picture bigger than the two of us here.”

“Whatever,” she begrudgingly replied. “Do we still have any of that iced tea you made?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow? Ross shows his true colors and Bucky surprises Darcy at work. He's only just a little jealous of the young security guard who seems to like Darcy a bit too much for Bucky's taste.


	20. Chapter 20

> _”And all I can taste is this moment, and all I can breathe is your life. And sooner or later it’s over. I don’t wanna miss you tonight. And I don’t want the world to see me ‘cause I don’t think that they’d understand. When everything’s meant to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.” - Goo Goo Dolls (Iris)_

**[August 30, 11:07pm]**

Bucky wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened, but for the past few nights, he’d been going to bed with Darcy. Instead of waiting until she fell asleep on him and sneaking into her bed for a few hours of blissful sleep, they would silently turn the television off between ten-thirty and eleven each night before brushing their teeth and slipping under separate blankets in the same bed.

He’d had two nightmares since he’d returned—the first night when she’d woken him with her sweet voice, calmly telling him that he was safe, and the night after that when he’d woken up to his face buried in her soft tits while she comforted him. If Bucky were less of a man, he’d fake a nightmare just for the chance to press his cheek against her tits and breathe in her unmistakable scent. Being that close to her always made him think of her romance novels and how those pages of sex upon sex made her feel. Did it turn her on? Did she wish he would go away so she could pull out that vibrator and make herself come again? Would she let him help her come?

He pulled his T-shirt off and sat down on his side of the bed just as she walked into the room in pajamas that elevated his blood pressure. They weren’t supposed to be sexy, but everything she put on seemed to fan that little flame of desire for her that he’d been trying to ignore for weeks. Sometimes he felt like maybe she felt it, too. Maybe.

The bed dipped behind him as she slipped under the covers on her side. Bucky did the same before turning to face her. “I’m worried they’re going to try to hurt you,” he whispered.

“Who?”

“Anyone. Everyone. HYDRA. Stark Tower has to be at the top of their list of targets. It would make a statement.”

“And piss Tony Stark off,” she said as she flipped over to mimic his position.

They laid there on their sides, staring at each other for a few seconds. “Can you work from another building?” Bucky finally asked.

“I told you that security there is—”

“I know you did. That doesn’t mean I won’t worry. Just like me telling you not to worry about me won’t stop you.”

“You stop the solo missions and I’ll tell them I need to work remotely.”

He snorted. “Brat.”

“You know it,” she said with a grin. Darcy adjusted her pillow and frowned. “Wait, what is this?”

Bucky watched her sit up and reach into her pillowcase. He knew what she was going to pull out before her hand had even cleared the fabric of the covering. One of the men with Ross had excused himself to go to the bathroom and apologized when he realized there wasn’t a bathroom connected to the bedroom. He’d slipped a device into her pillowcase.

Darcy’s face was probably a mirror of his own when she held up the device in the moonlight. They both had seen one just like it twice before—once in her purse and once under the armchair in the living room. “What the fuck?” she muttered, eyes wide and looking at him.

Bucky snatched it from her fingers and crushed it between his vibranium thumb and index finger.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered as he sat up next to her. “How long has it been there?”

“Just today. Ross must have had one of them place it while he was talking to me.”

Bucky was racking his brain, trying to think of what they had said to each other since she’d arrived that evening. Had they said anything incriminating? Darcy was obviously doing the same thing, her lips moving as she recounted conversations.

It came as a shock to Bucky, after several minutes of replaying their conversations in his head, when he realized they hadn’t really had a discussion or said anything that would reveal the truth of their marriage of convenience. Before either of them could say any more, Bucky jumped up and swept the room and the rest of the apartment for additional devices. There was another in the bathroom hidden above the molding over the door. He destroyed it and dropped the remnants of both out the window in the living room.

“Did you find another?” she asked, clutching her legs to her in the middle of the bed.

“Yeah, bathroom.”

“I can’t think of anything we said that would tell them we aren’t for real married.”

“We _are_ for real married.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I think you said something to me about finding a guy to be a real husband to me or something when we got into that fight, but that doesn’t… I mean, that could just be a fight about something else and you just being… insecure or whatever.” She rested her forehead on her knee. “I think maybe we got lucky.”

She was right; they had gotten lucky. But they’d also been acting like a couple lately. Meals together, television shows side-by-side, sleeping in the same bed. Just no sex, his brain reminded him. No sex with his gorgeous, kind, funny, smart wife. It was a fucking shame, but also a relief. Bucky didn’t remember how to do any of that shit. Rediscovering his healthy sex drive was strange at best. Mostly, it just felt awkward because there was no way he could let on that he secretly fantasized about her. He’d just make her feel like a prostitute if he made a move or asked her if physical intimacy was part of the deal. It definitely wasn’t part of the fucking deal.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Lucky.” Bucky sighed deeply as he laid down on the bed again. “I’m sorry; that was my fault. I was careless.”

“Your mind was on something else. Don’t apologize, dude.”

He wanted her to call him by his name or by a pet name that made him feel like she cared about him as more than a friend who was helping him through a rough patch. Dude made it sound like she wanted to give him a pat on the back, not a kiss on his lips. He could still remember the softness of her full lips that day weeks ago when he’d turned his head and brushed his mouth over hers while Ross was watching. He’d wanted their relationship to appear believable to the person who held his fate. He’d also wanted to kiss her. It had been a dirty thing to do and he still felt bad about it even if she hadn’t seemed to mind all that much.

Bucky stared up at the ceiling and the shifting patterns as the air kicked on and fluttered the curtain over the window. Moonlight, filtered through the sheer fabric, danced over the ceiling. “If I do this mission, it has to be soon,” he whispered.

“How soon?”

“They have a small elite ops team assembled.”

“Anyone I know?”

“No,” he said. “No Avengers. Career military only, probably Special Forces. Deployment is scheduled for the second.”

“That’s in two days,” she said, propping her head upon her hand, her elbow digging into the mattress.

Bucky closed his eyes so he couldn’t see her looking at him in his periphery. “I know.”

“Did you also know that HYDRA isn’t your responsibility. You know, if Tony Stark were sitting here in front of you, you’d tell him not to feel like he was responsible for Fort Bliss. I know you’d tell him that.”

“I would,” Bucky agreed, “because Fort Bliss isn’t his fault.”

“And HYDRA isn’t yours. This isn’t just your battle. For fuck’s sake, Bucky, Steve told you that in the quinjet when we landed here. He told you this isn’t just your problem. They’re coming for everyone, not just you.”

“I know how they think, how they operate. It gives me an edge. I can’t waste that. I can’t just… throw it away and tell someone else to deal with it.”

“Just… I don’t like that Ross is sending you on these missions when he has a roster of superheroes who are dying to get at HYDRA.”

Bucky opened his eyes and rolled his head so he could see her. “That’s exactly why he can’t use them. This needs to be done with precision, not a sledgehammer. Tony would go in there with blasters blazing.”

Her expression was a strange combination of resigned and fierce when she said, “I still think it’s bullshit, and I think you’re all too easy to convince because you feel like you’re responsible for HYDRA and want to redeem yourself by taking them out.”

“And what if I do?”

“You don’t need to redeem yourself, you idiot. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He had no way to respond to her heart-felt delusion that he was _perfect_. He was far from that, but he was clueless as to how she couldn’t see it.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she whispered. “But how the fuck am I going to keep Steve from figuring out what’s up when you leave again? I’m pretty sure Nat suspects something is going on. If any of them dug into our little fib, then… then… it wouldn’t hold water. You know?”

“This shouldn’t take two weeks. I just need you to keep Steve and Sam from sounding the alarm for four or five days.”

“How am I supposed to do that, Bucky? Steve comes by to see you every day.”

She was right. Steve would be a problem, and he couldn’t just dump that problem on Darcy. “I’ll take care of Steve and Sam.”

“How? They’re going to call bullshit if you tell them you’re going on another retreat.”

“I’ll tell them I’m going to run practice missions with an elite ops team to ease back into things. I’ll tell him that the retreat helped and now I’m ready to dip my toes back into—”

“I fucking hate this,” she said, rolling onto her back and covering her face with her hands.

“Hey,” he said, reaching over and grabbing the wrist closest to him with his left hand. The plates shifted as he curled the vibranium fingers around her delicate arm. “Hey, it’ll be okay. It’s just four days. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She looked up at him when he pulled her hand off her eyes.

“I’ll talk to that therapist when I get back. I promise.”

“Sometimes I feel like I care about you more than you care about yourself and that fucking _sucks_. I don’t want to compare, but… I felt like that with my mom.” Her mouth was pinched up as she held back her emotions.

“I’m not your mom.”

Darcy snorted. “Obviously.”

“I don’t want to die. I want to help. I want to make things right.” He paused and pulled in a shallow breath before he said, “I want to come back to you.”

The last promise deflated her. She exhaled and closed her eyes. “Go to sleep, jerk.”

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

She rolled over, giving him her back. “Go to sleep,” she muttered.

Bucky shifted until he was closer, sliding an arm around her midsection. Her body tensed for a brief moment before she relaxed back into him. “Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear.

“Mmm, hmm,” she agreed.

“Okay,” Bucky replied laying his head down and inhaling the scent of her hair.

* * *

**[September 1, 2018, 12:19pm]**

“You said the second. You said the transport was leaving at eighteen hundred on the second.” Bucky looked at Ross’ impassive face, feeling anxiety crawling up his chest into his throat.

“Change of plans,” Ross said. “We need to move fast while attention on both sides is focused on the impending trade war.”

“You think that’s enough of a distraction? HYDRA doesn’t care about a trade war with China.”

Ross flipped the screen of his computer around. “This is live. It’s going to hit the news wire in ten minutes.” Bucky could make out a stone building in ruins and a fire burning behind it. There were bodies _everywhere_. His stomach dropped out of his body. “Al Asad Airbase in Iraq,” Ross explained. “Reports started arriving an hour ago. We’ve kept leaks to the media at a minimum, but this is the reason I called you in early. The transport is being fueled and takes off at thirteen hundred. You have forty-five minutes to get there. I have a car ready to take you. Your team will meet you.”

Bucky felt shell-shocked. “Why Al Asad Airbase?”

Ross shook his head. “One of the largest US military bases in the world. We have over two thousand men there right now.”

“I can’t just leave. I need to tell Darcy what—”

“There isn’t time, Sergeant Barnes,” Ross snapped. “Rogers already knows about this. He and a team are en route to Al Asad. If HYDRA plans on attacking Stark Tower, then now would be an opportune time. We need to shut them down. We need to know where they are keeping these suits and what is powering them. Initial reports out of Al Asad were that seven objects were incoming before the base was blown apart.”

“There were only four at Fort Bliss and Tony Stark destroyed two of them.”

“Exactly,” Ross said, smacking the palm of his hand down on the table. “They’ve made more. We need to put a stop to this or they’ll be back on American soil. Waiting a day isn’t—”

“Okay. Okay,” Bucky said, feeling himself slip into that familiar state of mind he had to find in order to think clearly during stressful situations that involved life and death. Compartmentalizing wasn’t so bad if it allowed him to shut down the buzzing in his brain so he could actually do something.

“Car is waiting outside.” Ross handed him a device that looked similar to his own cell. “Mission objectives are on here. We need answers _now_. This can’t happen again.”

“Understood,” Bucky replied. As he swept out of the room, he pulled out his cell and called Darcy without a second thought.

She picked up on the second ring. “Bucky?” He stopped for a moment and closed his eyes at the sweet sound of her voice.

“Hey, sweetheart. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure. You want something special for dinner?”

“I want you to get your things together and go home. And I’d like you to stay in the apartment until you hear from me again or until it isn’t safe for you to stay there any longer. Okay?”

She didn’t respond immediately, but when she did, her voice was pitched a bit higher. “Bucky, what’s happening?”

“Al Asad Airbase was attacked. Steve and his team are on their way there. My mission was moved up to now. I’ve gotta go.” He pushed open the door to the stairwell.

“But why… Is Stark Tower in danger?”

“No specific threats, but I don’t want to risk you. Please go home for me, sweetheart. Would you do that for me, please? I need you safe so I can focus on this mission.”

“Okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll go home. Please call me, Bucky. Please call me to tell me you’re okay when you can.”

He grimaced because he knew he wouldn’t be able to. “I will if I can. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“You too, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Okay,” she said, breathless. “Okay, I will. Don’t die, okay? I lo—” She cut herself off quickly and covered whatever she was going to say by saying, “Just be careful.”

“See you soon, doll.”

Bucky disconnected and leaned against the wall. His brain was reeling, telling him that she’d been about to tell him she loved him. And if she had, would it have been for show? Did she think they might be overheard? It had to have been for show.

* * *

**[September 6, 2018, 3:07pm]**

He was exhausted, but the debrief had to happen before he could go home. They’d located the facilities in China that HYDRA had set up shop in. There was a murky trail of money from China’s foreign ministry department to bank accounts that eventually led back to HYDRA. Or at least that was Bucky’s suspicion. Ross probably had some forensic accountants on it by now. The thought was that HYDRA was using China for their money, and China was anticipating repayment in the form of knockoff Iron Man suits. It certainly would even the playing fields if there was another world war and the Avengers were involved.

One of the locations had been abandoned before the team arrived. The other location had been fully staffed and guarded by a private Chinese security firm. Ross was up to his eyeballs in spinning the firefight that had happened so it didn’t get twisted into an international incident by the Chinese government. Other than the bank records, the only other redeeming quality to the missions was the inventory of armor they’d seized at the second facility. They would have turned into knockoff suits had they not found the cache. There had been one power source, but it was broken and inoperable. The small blue disc had a crack down the center and wouldn’t turn on.

Ross had put Bucky on notice that they would need him for another mission after the accountants could unravel the money trail. Bucky had been exhausted and mentally drained. He’d spent most of the past five days worried that something had happened to Darcy while he was out of communication. So, when Ross had mentioned the threats against Stark Tower after Bucky had questioned why the Avengers couldn’t be brought in for these missions, Bucky’s anxiety kicked into high gear.

“What do you mean, threats?” he asked.

Ross shrugged. “There don’t need to be specific threats when it’s such an iconic target. If they could topple that building, then…”

“I’m starting to get the impression you’re trying to use my wife’s safety as leverage to get me to agree to missions,” Bucky snapped back.

“I’ll do whatever needs to be done to protect this country,” Ross said, raising his voice and smacking a hand down on his desk.

Bucky felt his stomach roll over at the reply. The threat was vague, but it was there. “If anyone touches a hair on her—”

“Your wife is safe as long as you’re cooperative.”

That statement propelled Bucky out of his seat. His vibranium hand slammed down on the desk just like Ross’s had, but this time the wooden desktop cracked right down the middle.

Two men at the door drew their guns and leveled them on him. “They’ll shoot you in the head if you make a move,” Ross said. “And they won’t miss.”

“If you so much as—”

“Your wife is safe as long as you cooperate. You’re serving your country and we’re thankful. I have a full security detail stationed outside your apartment building and Stark Tower. They won’t let anything happen to her.”

“And if I say I’m not working for you anymore since my contract doesn’t compel me to? What then? What is that security detail going to do then?”

“I’m afraid if you’re not working with us, then there is no incentive to extend your wife any special protection.”

The implication was clear. Play ball or she’ll get hurt.

Bucky reached down and flipped the desk up into the air. It spun over and smacked into the wall, shattering a window and kicking up dust as the drywall crumbled around the hole it had made. A fraction of a second later, one of the men behind him fired his rifle. Bucky blocked it with his left arm, sending the bullet ricocheting into the ceiling. Before the other man could get off a shot, Bucky had spun around and bent the muzzle of his rifle up toward the ceiling before jerking it out of his hands.

“Stop!” Ross screamed and the one who had fired the first shot dropped the tip of his gun to point at the floor.

“If anything happens to her, I’m coming for you,” Bucky said when he turned around to face the General. “I’ll rip you apart.”

Ross pushed his shoulders back, but he was rubbing his hands together as he stood. It was a clear sign of nervousness. “Nothing will happen to her if you continue to support your country with these missions against a known terrorist organization. I assure you.”

Disgusted with Ross and himself, Bucky threw the ruined rifle on the ground and walked out of the room, unimpeded.

* * *

**[September 6, 2018, 3:58pm]**

She wasn’t at home even though he’d told her to stay there while he was gone. He wasn’t really surprised. It took him too long to get to Stark Tower, though. When he got there, he realized he probably wasn’t exactly welcome, considering his history with the man who owned the building. Then again, he was living in a Stark property. He looked conspicuous walking into the place in a pair of tactical pants with pockets down the legs. The icing on the cake was probably the black jacket and the way his hands were shoved deep in the pockets. The two men at the security desk eyed him with suspicion.

“My wife works here,” Bucky said, pulling out his right hand and tapping his name into the touchpad affixed to a stand on the desk.

“Her name?” one of the men asked.

“Darcy Le—Barnes. Darcy Barnes. Media liaison for the Avengers.”

“Oh, yeah,” the man to Bucky’s left said, smiling. “I know her. That’s your wife?”

Bucky tried to control his anxiety that was escalating by the minute. “Yes,” he told the man.

“She brings us donuts on Tuesdays from that bakery down the street. I didn’t know she was married. Didn’t notice a ring.” The man was young, Darcy’s age. He had short blonde hair and probably didn’t have any trouble picking up girls.

Bucky’s anxiety shifted into jealousy. He tried to swallow it down because he had no reason or right to be jealous. But he didn’t feel very bad about crushing the man’s obvious hopes when he said, “Yeah, my wife,” Holding up his right hand to show the wedding ring, Bucky added, “We’re European.”

“She said she’s from Indiana,” the kid said.

“We’re very married,” Bucky said. “Newlyweds. Our year anniversary is coming up in October.”

“Congrats, man,” the other security guard said. “She’s great.”

“But we can’t let you upstairs,” the kid who had designs on Darcy said. “We’re under some strict security guidelines nowadays.”

“We could call her for you. She could come down,” the other man offered.

Bucky glanced around the open lobby. It wasn’t busy for a Thursday afternoon close to five. Darcy would be smart enough to act happy to see him if someone were watching. She was better at this fake shit than he was. “Please,” Bucky told the guard. “I’ve been out of town and I haven’t seen her for a few days.”

“No problem, man.” He picked up the phone and buzzed Darcy. After a brief conversation about her husband being in the lobby, he hung up. Bucky stepped back and looked up at the high ceilings and the glass front of the building. It was a security nightmare. He’d have to fight her again about working from home.

In less than five minutes, the elevator opened to reveal her. She was wringing her hands and looked just about as nervous as he felt. There was a question in her eyes—are you okay? “Hey, sweetheart,” he said over the five or so yards that separated them.

“Are you okay?” she asked, taking long, rushed steps forward.

“Yeah, I’m—” Bucky grunted as she threw her arms around his neck. On instinct, he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned back, lifting her off the floor and holding her tight against him. “I’m okay, Darcy. I’m not hurt,” he whispered in her ear.

“I was so fucking worried. Everyone is still out there looking for HYDRA and you were gone and, and… you didn’t call.”

“Shh, shh, we have an audience,” he told her.

Darcy’s body tensed against his and then her legs hooked around his waist. Bucky closed his eyes as they rolled back into his head at the sensation of the heat between her legs right up against him. He moved his hands down to her ass so he could support her weight.

“I missed you,” she said, pressing her forehead to his.

“I missed you more,” he replied. It was the truth, not anything said for show. He really had missed her. He didn’t know how he’d get over the divorce down the line. If he felt this strongly about her after a couple of months, Bucky couldn’t imagine faking a ruined relationship so she could have her life back.

“What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Thought maybe I could take you home early. I just got back into town.”

“Okay,” she said, all smiles. His chest was burning because she looked at him like she meant every word, like she was so happy to see him, like she was his wife for real. Like she’d let him take her home and make love to her before dinner because he hadn’t been able to touch her for days. “Let me down so I can get my bag. I flew out of my office when they told me you were here.”

Reluctantly, Bucky let her slide down his body until her feet were on the floor. “I’ll wait here,” he said.

Darcy smiled at him as she backed towards the elevators. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

After she was gone, Bucky glanced over at the security desk. The younger guard who probably had a crush on Darcy didn’t look too happy at all. Bucky wished he could say Darcy was his for real, but she wasn’t. She was his for show, but that was better than nothing.

* * *

**[September 6, 2018, 9:49pm]**

She’d pulled together an early dinner from ingredients already in the kitchen while he showered the grime of the mission off himself. He’d told her about the mission over dinner but omitted everything that had occurred during the debriefing, including the knowledge that she was being watched. It made him want to go everywhere with her so those bastards would never have a chance to get her alone. She had signed up for a marriage but hadn’t signed up to be surveilled and used as leverage to keep him in line.

She’d stifled a yawn just before ten and suggested they go to bed. It was the first time either of them had suggested it to the other. They didn’t talk about going to bed together; it just happened. He followed behind her and slipped under the covers as she was getting comfortable on her side facing him.

“I didn’t sleep very well the past few nights,” she admitted, laying her head on a pillow.

“Why?” Bucky asked, rolling over to face her.

“Worried about you, worried about another attack, restless.”

“I asked you to stay here while I was gone.”

“I’m shit at following instructions. Are you mad?”

He gave her a small smile. “No, but I worry about you, too, you know.”

“I’m not in danger like you are.”

He wanted to tell her, but it would just freak her out. It might even make the situation more dangerous for her. “You’re working inside of one of the biggest targets on the planet, sweetheart.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I did stay here during the first two days you were gone. I thought I was gonna lose my mind if I didn’t do something on the third day. All of you were gone and all I did was worry about you. About Steve and Sam and Nat. Besides, if they topple Stark Tower, then half of Midtown is going with it. You think they’re going to be neat about an attack like that?”

“Okay. Okay,” he told her. “I’m not mad. I just worry, sweetheart.”

“You’re a good guy,” she told him, poking her index finger into his chest. Her words and the casual little touch made his chest ignite. When he didn’t reply, she cleared her throat and said, “Soooo, it’s good that you got back today.”

“Why?”

“I kinda rented a place for us. A place by a lake in the middle of nowhere. I thought you might like a little getaway after all this crazy shit.”

“What?” he asked, not comprehending what she was telling him. She’d rented a place? For _them_?

“It’s just a little one-bedroom cabin on a private lake. No other house in sight. It’s ours for a week.”

“Ours?”

Darcy looked away and exhaled a breathy little laugh. “Well, yours if you want some peace and quiet. I don’t have to go.”

“No, I want you to,” he said without a second thought. “When did you do this? _Why_ did you do this?”

“I booked it before you left on the mission. I was going to tell you that night, but you left. It’s ours from the day after tomorrow to next Saturday morning. I checked flights on my phone while you were in the shower. There are still tickets available to Detroit. It’s, like, a little over an hour outside of Detroit. Or….”

Bucky raised his brows. “Or?”

“Or we could road trip it if ten hours in a rental with me doesn’t sound like hell on earth to you.”

“Doll, it sounds better than anything else I’ve experienced in the past five days by a large margin. And I love the idea, but… I don’t think I can leave the city right now. There’s just so much going on with HYDRA and that attack on Al Asad…”

“I cleared it. Who says I don’t dot my I’s and cross my T’s? Ross emailed me back like ten minutes before you showed up at Stark Tower today. He said you were clear to go as long as I gave them your coordinates in case you need to be deployed on a mission. I was going to tell him to shove his mission up his ass, but you know what they say.”

Bucky felt like he was mentally stumbling along in an attempt to keep up with her. Ross had emailed her back right after Bucky had broken his desk in half and thrown it against the wall. “What do they say?” he asked her.

“You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.” She shifted a little closer. “So, we leave early Saturday morning and get there by dinner. I found a service that will stock the pantry for us, so I’ve been making a grocery list to give them tomorrow. Any requests?”

“How did you get Ross to agree to this?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I did what he asked—gave him the coordinates of the house. And I fed him a line about how we never got a honeymoon, so this is our little honeymoon or whatever.”

Bucky closed his eyes and rolled onto his back. It sounded like an amazing honeymoon—alone with her in a secluded house with nothing to do but…

“Fuck. How do we get a message to Steve and company that we’re going on a vacation? They’re unreachable.”

“We’ll leave a note on Steve’s door. He can call us if they want to know where we are.”

She smiled. “Does that mean you’ll come with me?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll come with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow we'll join Darcy and Bucky on a road trip to a week-long getaway. Darcy will also tell General Ross to fuck off because she's had enough of his bullshit.


	21. Chapter 21

> _”Let’s quit the town, just look around. There’s nothing here to keep us alive. If they try to run us down, you know I’m on your side.” - Duncan Shieik (Alibi)_

**[September 8, 2018, 6:48am]**

Darcy pulled into the alley next to their apartment building and popped the trunk when she saw Bucky standing in the shadow of the side doorway with their luggage. He seemed a little anxious, but she chalked it up to him stepping outside his comfort zone and getting away for a little rest and relaxation. He’d come a long way in the two months they’d known each other, and she was loath to admit that the missions he’d been on for Ross had probably boosted his confidence. What damage those missions had done deeper down, she wasn’t sure or qualified to determine.

“You know,” she said after he’d put their luggage in the trunk and climbed into the passenger seat of the small SUV, “you never talked to Sam’s therapist.”

“I did,” he said, pulling the brim of his baseball cap lower. “Yesterday.” He looked like a college student with the hat and the black hoodie with jeans. His hair was tucked behind his ears and almost hidden by the cap and the hood hanging off the back of the sweatshirt.

Darcy pulled into the light traffic and let the GPS on the dash tell her where to go next. The arrival estimate was just after four o’clock in the afternoon. “How was it?”

Bucky shrugged and looked out the window, scanning their surroundings. Old habits must die hard, she thought. He finally settled back into his seat and buckled the belt over himself. “It was… fine. He specializes in PTSD in the military, so… that helps.”

They rode in silence for a couple minutes until the GPS directed Darcy to merge onto the parkway. “I’ve been using an app on my phone to talk to someone,” she said softly, feeling a little embarrassed and also feeling stupid for thinking it was anything to be embarrassed about.

He looked over at her. “Yeah?”

“I, umm… Don’t worry. I didn’t tell her about our situation. I, uh, I told her we were married for real and that you’re in the military. She helped me with some coping strategies while you were away.”

He nodded slowly. “I told Dr. Baylor we were married for real, too. Figured it’d be best to keep the same story across the board. Sam told me I could trust him, but… it was easier to say this was real. You know?”

Darcy chewed on her lower lip and kept her eyes on the road. “Yeah,” she agreed. Left unsaid was a thought that liked to bounce around her head now and then: this _felt_ real most of the time. So, they didn’t have sex or kiss. But they did everything else—ate meals together and spent time with each other, slept in the same bed, supported one another. Weren’t there sexless marriages out there like that? Those were still real marriages.

_But he didn’t choose you and you didn’t choose him_, she reminded herself. That was the difference. This connection was just luck of the draw. She could have ended up with an asshole. Instead, she’d accidentally found a man she’d have said yes to anyway. Their story was that he’d asked her to marry him after knowing her for three months. Yeah, she thought, I’d say yes to him in three months. When she thought about it like that and how this was supposed to be an act, her chest felt like it was just a wide, gaping hole.

“I’m not making you do this, right?” she asked him. “I feel kinda silly now. I mean, I decided to do this before you’d even gone on the first mission. I thought it would help to get you out of the city and crowds. But, but… now you’re okay. Or you seem okay. I mean, you came to see me at work and you’re flying around the world and… Do you actually want to sit in a cabin with me for a week?”

“Sweetheart, there is no place I’d rather be than in a cabin with you for a week. You’re not making me do anything.”

He had a way of erasing all those insecurities that cluttered up her thoughts with a word or a look. She’d never experienced the full undivided attention of a man until she’d met Bucky. Darcy wondered if he was special or if she’d been spending her time with really stupid boys who had only given her enough to string her along. “Okay,” she said, blinking until the wetness in her eyes dissipated.

“Do you want to be there with me?” Bucky asked, his voice soft. “You don’t have to do this because you think I need it. I’ll be okay.”

“No, I want to. I just… I want to be there. With you. I’d want to even if…” She shook her head and smiled. “It’ll be fun. I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Renting a cabin on a lake and just… chilling out for a week. I bought you a Kindle yesterday so you can stop reading all my romance novels and so we can sit side-by-side on the dock and read books while we drink coffee. Like an old, boring couple.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like a good plan. Does it bother you that I read your books?”

She scrunched up her nose. “No, not really. It’s just… a little embarrassing that you know I like that kind of thing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“I don’t know. Like, it makes me feel silly and kinda lame that I read about it since I don’t have it in reality.”

“Doll, I don’t think that kind of stuff is reality. And if it is, then it’s not any reality I know.”

“Not even when you were a ladies man back in the day?” she asked, glancing over at him.

“Not even then.”

“Hmm,” she said. “That’s disappointing that there isn’t any romance novel sex to be found. I guess I was right. Reading about it is as good or better than the real thing.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him open his mouth to say something, but he closed it just as quickly and shifted his gaze out the window to his right. Darcy pressed her lips together and focused on the road. She probably shouldn’t talk to the hot guy about her lackluster sex life. It was probably a really bad idea.

* * *

**[September 8, 2018, 10:27am]**

Darcy rounded the hood of the rental and found him leaning back against the vehicle, one foot crossed over the other while he watched the gallons of gas tick away as they were pumped into the tank. His eyes were scanning the parking lot but to the casual observer, he probably looked relaxed.

“So, road trip right of passage is that you have to eat a disgusting gas station burrito and drink a Big Gulp from 7-Eleven,” she told him, lifting her hands. In each one of them was a thirty-ounce cup filled with ice and Coke. Her right hand also help a plastic bag with Doritos and two bean and cheese burritos she’d heated in the microwave inside the gas station. “We’ll spend the next two hours complaining about how we need to piss after we drink these. It’s tradition.”

Bucky smiled at her. “Sounds… fun.”

“Well, that’s the thing. It is, but it isn’t. Like, it’s fun because I associate nasty food and feeling like I might pee my pants with excitement and adventure.”

“Is this excitement and adventure?” Bucky asked as he pulled the nozzle out of the car and hung it off the gas pump.

She handed him his massive cup and used her newly freed hand to give him a playful punch on his right shoulder. “Yes, you jerk.”

“I’m kidding, sweetheart. I can’t say I’ve ever been on a vacation like this before.”

She raised her brows. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, motioning for her to get into the passenger seat. She did as she was told and settled her cup into the holder in the middle console. “Money was tight when I was growing up. We had enough, but the furthest we’d go for vacation was Coney Island, which ain’t that far. I’ve never even been to Michigan.”

She watched as he buckled his seatbelt and started the vehicle. “Me neither.”

“So, it’s a new adventure for both of us,” he said.

Darcy smiled. “We’ve had a lot of new adventures together.”

“We have,” Bucky agreed. He watched her pull a bean and cheese burrito out of the bag. It was still wrapped in the plastic she’d heated it in. “What the hell is that?”

Darcy scrunched up her nose. “The, uh, nasty gas station food I told you about. It’s not _that_ bad, but it’s not that good either.

Reluctantly, he took it from her and peeled away the plastic around one end. She did the same with her burrito, and they both sat there in the parking lot with the air vents blowing the cool air at their faces while they ate flavorless and slightly wet burritos. Darcy washed hers down with Coke and watched Bucky open the bag of Doritos.

“Mmm,” he told her, after shoving a handful into his mouth. “These are good.”

Laughing at him, she said, “They are,” and grabbed a couple from the bag before he dug in for seconds. “You wanna eat while I drive?”

“No,” he said, grabbing more and quickly eating them before handing the bag to her. “I’ll drive. Being out of the city makes me less anxious.”

She ate half the bag as he navigated traffic and merged back into the slow lane of Interstate 80. They were in the middle of Pennsylvania, surrounded by farm country and not much else. The open landscape seemed to put him at ease. “Do you have anxiety in crowds?” she asked.

“It’s more anxiety over situations I can’t control. The more people, the less control.”

Of course. It would make sense that his worries stemmed from a loss of control. She stuck the tip of her index finger in her mouth, licking off the remnants of the cheesy dust from the Doritos. As she was doing the same with her middle finger, she felt Bucky’s gaze on her. She glanced over just as he looked away. “Sorry,” she said, “Cheesy fingers from the Doritos.”

“Right,” he said, focusing on the road as he adjusted his hands on the wheel. “Right.”

“Sorry,” she said again. “Jane has this thing about mouth sounds. Like, she doesn’t like to hear people eating and stuff. If I do that again just… yell at me or whatever.”

“I don’t have a problem,” he assured her. “You’re fine. It’s… fine. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.”

He was acting a little squirrely, but maybe that was because he was trying not to hurt her feelings. Darcy wiped her fingers on a napkin she found in the glove compartment before connecting her phone to the car’s stereo system. “How do you feel about a little driving music? I made this road trip mix while you were away the first time. When I couldn’t sleep, I’d sit up and work on it in the living room where we watched TV. It helped… with coping and stuff. You know?” She winced. “I’m sorry. We were having fun and then I just… blather about shit that neither of us wants to think about right now and—”

“Darcy, it’s okay. It’s fine.” He glanced over and said, “I’d love to hear your music. I haven’t heard much beyond what Shuri has made me listen to. I don’t think she and I agree on much when it comes to music.”

“Uh oh,” Darcy said, pulling up her playlist. “You and I might not agree either. You get unlimited passes. If you hate a song then you can tell me to skip it.”

“Unlimited?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Normally, I only give people three passes. But you’re cute, so I’m gonna give you unlimited passes.”

He laughed. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you wanna play me, doll. Let’s hear it.”

* * *

**[September 8, 2018, 3:54pm]**

Darcy stretched her arms in the air and yawned. Bucky’s eyes went from her face down to her exposed midriff when her shirt lifted up. She quickly aborted the stretch even though it felt good and leaned back against the rental SUV. He’d gone inside to get them coffee for the last hour of their drive.

“Fav song so far?” she asked him when he handed over her coffee.

Bucky’s gaze shifted to the left, but he didn’t move his head. He stepped into her personal space, and Darcy leaned back against the car door to look up into his eyes. “I love them all,” he murmured. “I love them because you love them.”

Her heart was beating double time. She almost dropped the coffee on the parking lot of the gas station when he bent his head down, pressing his lips to her ear. “Hey,” she said, shakily.

“Ross is having two of his men follow us. They’re in a black sedan across the parking lot. They’ve been tailing us since this morning. I want you to act like what I’m saying is funny.”

Darcy smiled and laughed softly, pressing her free hand to his chest like he was getting frisky with her in the parking lot of the gas station and she was a little embarrassed that her husband couldn’t control himself. “What the fuck is going on?” she whispered back.

“They aren’t a threat, but Ross isn’t going to just let me disappear. They’re here to babysit. Get in the car.”

She hooked an arm around his neck and stepped into his body. Bucky backed up with her and then reached around behind her to open the passenger door. “Thanks, babe,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before getting inside the vehicle. He rounded the hood with his coffee and got behind the wheel. Once the doors were shut, she said, “What do we do?”

“Nothing. I just needed you to know they were there and watching us so you didn’t say or do something that might jeopardize our story.” He started the car.

“What do you mean, nothing? These creeps are following us and spying on us.”

“We can’t do anything about it. They won’t interfere, Darcy. They’ve probably been told to keep their distance, but to make sure we don’t try to skip town.” He pulled out into traffic and merged onto the highway before saying, “Ross wants me for another mission, but when is to be determined.”

Her stomach clenched up at the mention of another mission. She felt like each time he went out with these teams that didn’t include people she trusted like Steve or Sam or Natasha, there was just a higher likelihood of him not returning. “I don’t trust Ross,” she told Bucky.

“Neither do I, but we can’t exactly cut him out of our lives. He can pull some strings and make my life and your life very difficult.”

“Uh, he already is, dude. Forcing you to marry me, making you talk to a shrink just to make sure we’re legit and you aren’t going off the deep end, sending you who knows where on secret missions that you can’t talk to your fucking friends about, sending two goons to follow us on our faux honeymoon.”

“Faux honeymoon?”

“Yeah. That’s what I told him this is. We never got one, but we’re taking one now. You, me, secluded cabin, lots of newlywed sex.” She could feel the blush creeping over her cheeks. “Not that the lots of sex is happening, but… but _they don’t know that_. For all Ross knows he’s sending these two suits to perv on us. Fucking gross. Ugh! I hate that guy.”

Bucky was smiling while he glanced between her and the road.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Your righteous indignation over the idea that Ross would care about our sex life.”

“He’s a cockblocker. I mean, he must know that you know. You’re not fucking stupid. And if you know, then you’d probably be all gentlemanly and not bang me. Hypothetically, of course.”

He nodded, his expression grave, but his eyes amused. “Of course.”

“Don’t make fun of me. You should be offended, too.”

“Oh, I am,” Bucky replied. “We’ll take care of them once we get to the house. No spying on us once we’re there. Promise.”

She raised her brows. “And how are you going to do that?”

“You’re going to do that.”

“Is that right?”

He smiled. “Mmm, hmm. I’ll tell you how…”

* * *

**[September 8, 2018, 5:22pm]**

“You promise this will work?” she whispered.

“Promise. Just act like you did with Tafford that first day. Give ‘em hell.”

She left Bucky to unload their luggage and turn on the water to the house. The owners had left a welcome letter with instructions along with the key to the cabin inside the lockbox. The driveway was long and lined with trees. She walked down the middle of it, unable to see the road until she was almost on it. The men parked in the black sedan looked shocked and caught off -guard when they saw her step out of the treeline. They had parked several yards back on the side of the two-lane country road.

Darcy shoved her nervousness down deep and focused on Bucky’s instructions. He knew what he was talking about. She trusted him.

The driver started the car and she stopped walking toward them, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head. Lifting a hand, she curled her index finger, beckoning for them to come over and talk to her. The two men looked at one another and then at her. They exchanged a few words before the driver turned the engine off. Darcy watched them slowly exit the vehicle and cover the distance between her and the car with halting, nervous strides.

“He’s unloading the car,” she told them. “There’s no boogeyman in the forest.”

“We’re lost,” the driver said.

“Dude, give me a fucking break. You’re not lost. You’re exactly where you were told to be. Tell Ross we don’t need a chaperone on our honeymoon.”

“Ma’am, we’re just doing our job,” the passenger said.

“I get it,” Darcy said. “But my husband and I would like some privacy, so I’m here to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?” the driver asked.

“Yep. A deal. You don’t come any further than this mailbox. You can set up shop right here and monitor to your heart’s desire, but no pictures, no audio, no spying on us. We have a device that can pick up surveillance equipment. If we detect anything closer to the house than here, then my husband will show you exactly why he has such a scary reputation.”

“Ma’am, we really—”

“Shhh,” Darcy hushed the driver. “I know you’re here to make sure he doesn’t skip town. He’s not going to, trust me. We never got a honeymoon, so this is it. We just want to spend a week alone, no interruptions. You have my word he won’t skip town and that when the week is up we’re going back to the apartment in Manhattan.”

“We need—”

“Nope,” Darcy interrupted the other man. “You need to let my husband and I have a nice week together. If you don’t want to do that, then you better call your boss now.”

“But we—” the passenger said before the driver stopped him with a raised hand.

“Let’s just call him. I don’t want to get killed because we didn’t check,” the driver muttered, pulling out his phone and dialing. “Sir, we’ve been compromised.” He paused and said, “Yes, but Mrs. Barnes is here and she’s… she’s threatening us.”

Darcy watched as the man held out the phone for her to take. She stepped forward and gingerly took the cell phone, pressing it to her ear. “Yep,” she said.

“Mrs. Barnes, a pleasure.”

“General Ross, _not_ a pleasure. Can’t you let us have a honeymoon without two of your goons perving over our time alone?”

“Surely you can appreciate the position I am in. A former assassin for a terrorist group is—”

“Fuck that noise, dude. Don’t pull the former assassin for a terrorist group shit. You’re having us watched because he’s your new toy and you don’t want to lose him. I’m not stupid, and neither is he.”

Her response was met with silence. She held her breath, waiting Ross out. Finally, he said, “We’re in the midst of a global crisis, Mrs. Barnes. I can’t afford to lose one of the most effective operatives we have. I’ve asked these gentlemen to ensure your husband doesn’t flee.”

“He wouldn’t flee if you’re treating him like a human being and respecting his fucking boundaries.” She was off-script, but something about the way Ross talked about Bucky really pissed her off.

“Is that why you’ve taken this trip, then?” he asked. “So you and your husband can esca—”

“No, dude. _No_. We’re here because we never got a honeymoon. I am _not_ lying about that. We just want a week to relax and spend time together before you force him to go on another mission.”

“I can’t pull my men,” he said. “Leaving you and Barnes out there alone is too risky. I won’t be made a fool of.”

“I’m not asking you to do that. I’m asking you for privacy and dignity. Don’t listen in on our conversations or take pictures of us. If I want to scream while we’re having sex or skinny dip in the lake, then I want to do it without a fucking audience. Your goons can set up shop at the end of the driveway and follow us around town if we leave the cabin.”

“And if you try to escape on foot through the forest?”

“Oh my _god_. Don’t you think we could have done it by now if we wanted to? There’s a tunnel system under Stark Tower. I have access codes to it. When he came to see me after the last mission, we could have escaped. He doesn’t want to run. He wouldn’t have signed the contract if he did.”

Silence. Ross didn’t reply, but Darcy didn’t have anything else to say. Bucky had told her to fib about the tunnels and the codes if she needed to push Ross one last little bit. After several seconds, he said, “Fine. They’ll leave the cabin unmonitored and remain at the end of the driveway. If either of you tries to flee, then you’ll be sentenced and sent to the Raft.”

“Whatever,” Darcy replied. “Just keep your surveillance shit out of my bedroom.” She hoped he got the message about the bug they’d found in her pillow after Ross’ last visit.

“Keep your husband under control,” Ross replied.

She laughed. “The way I heard it, Tafford thought I was the more difficult one.”

“You know,” Ross said, “I had my doubts about this convenient little marriage when Natasha Romanov mentioned it, but I see now I was wrong. You’re a bigger pain in my ass than Barnes.”

“Fuck you, too, General.”

Darcy smiled as she handed the phone back to the driver. He had a brief conversation with Ross before disconnecting. “Ma’am, we have orders to remain here as long as Barnes walks to the end of the driveway at nine in the morning and nine in the evening to confirm he hasn’t absconded.”

“Whatever,” she replied, turning to walk back up to the driveway and through the wooded dirt path. It took her almost five minutes to get to the house. She’d almost stopped shaking by that point.

Bucky was standing there with his hands on his hips, waiting for her. “You did perfect, sweetheart.”

“How the hell do you know how I did?” she asked.

“I’ve got great hearing.”

She held out a hand that was almost steady. “I don’t know if I’m shaking from the adrenaline or the fear of telling a General to fuck off.”

Bucky reached out and took her hand, pulling her closer so he could wrap his arms around her. “Little of both, probably. Let’s go inside and find something to eat for dinner.”

“Or we could stand here and continue to hug it out,” she mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tight.

Chuckling, Bucky said, “Why aren’t you afraid of my arm?”

“Uh, because it’s attached to you and I trust you.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah. I’d trust you with my life.”

“Darcy…”

She pulled back and poked an index finger into his chest. “I’m serious. If it was a life or death situation, you know I’ll be calling you. I know who’s the best around.”

Her light-hearted ribbing made him laugh softly. “You ever need me—even after all this is over—you just gotta call.”

“You owe me a favor, huh?” she teased.

“I owe you more than one. You’ve got unlimited favors.”

“That’s just because I gave you unlimited passes.” She walked around him and made her way toward the little cabin. “Come on, I want to check out the house. Is it nice?”

“Very,” Bucky replied, following her.

“Private?”

“Not another house in sight,” he confirmed. “Not even across the lake.”

“Excellent,” Darcy replied, climbing the three steps to the front door. It wasn’t until she put her hand on the doorknob that she registered Bucky’s comment about hearing her all the way out by the road from his spot near the house. That was a long way, even for excellent hearing. Darcy froze. “Wait, exactly how good is your hearing?” she asked him when he stopped behind her.

Bucky shifted and said, “Pretty good.”

“Like, theoretically, could you hear through, say, a bedroom door?”

He cleared his throat. “Theoretically, yeah.”

“_Have_ you heard anything… you know, potentially embarrassing for one of us?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Darcy opened the door. “You know what? Nevermind. I don’t want to know. Denial is good. Better for my mental health.”

* * *

**[September 8, 2018, 7:04pm]**

The cabin was small but well-appointed. The kitchen had been stocked by the grocery service that catered to renters in the area, and the homeowners had any cooking implement she might need hiding away in the drawers and cabinets. The couch and recliner in the living room were plush and comfortable. The television was connected to the wi-fi so they could continue their late-night binges. She loved the bedroom and its view of the lake but did note that it had a queen bed. They were used to the spacious king-size bed in the apartment. Darcy wasn’t exactly unhappy about cuddling up with Bucky, but she wasn’t too sure how he felt about that.

A patio door in the bedroom opened onto a wooden deck. Jutting from the deck was a small dock that extended a few yards out over the private lake. Trees ringed the water, not a house in sight. They were too tired to cook, so Bucky assembled sandwiches and they ate them on paper plates at the end of the dock. Her feet barely touched the surface of the water.

“I love this time of the evening,” Darcy said, extending her toes and kicking the water. “It’s quiet and the sun is setting, the air is cooling down. It smells good.”

Bucky chuckled. “You can smell a time of day?”

“Oh yeah, of course. When you get out of, like, populated areas. It smells clean and peaceful.”

He glanced over at her, a smile on his face. “You’re weird, you know that, right?”

Darcy laughed softly. “Oh, yeah. I know it.”

“You’re lucky that all my favorite people are weird.”

“Yeah?” she asked. “Am I one of your favorite people?”

“You know you are, sweetheart.”

Darcy dropped her head onto his shoulder and sighed. “You’re one of my favorite people, too.”

She felt Bucky lean his head over to rest his cheek on top of hers, but he didn’t say anything.

“This is nice,” she whispered. “This is one of the happiest moments I’ve had in, like, a very long time.”

“Me, too,” he murmured, lifting his head and pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of her head. Darcy closed her eyes and tried to will her heart not to beat out of her chest or her brain to invent a future—a real future—with the man beside her.

“So, I have a confession to make,” Darcy said, sitting up straight again and shoving her hands under her thighs so she couldn’t flutter them around like the nervous person she was.

“What’s the confession?” he asked.

“I might have extorted the federal government.”

He chuckled. “What are you talking about?”

“Welllll, I might have suggested that you were considering doing interviews with some select news stations and publications with deep pockets. And I might have insinuated that if you were getting a steady salary like the rest of the Avengers then you might not feel pressured to give said interviews.”

“Darcy,” he said, his tone dropping to one of those disapproving father levels.

“I think I scared a couple of P.R. people in the D.O.D. and they gave you a checking account and a monthly paycheck. It’s not a ton, but it’ll pay the bills.” Darcy reached into her back pocket and pulled out a debit card.

Bucky looked down at the card and then back up at her face. “Are you serious?”

“Yep. Just add extortion to my list of services.”

“Darcy… I… Why did you do this?”

“Because I don’t want you to feel trapped, dude. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go on missions for Ross to get a paycheck. You’ve sacrificed enough already. I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay with me in order to survive. You need some fucking independence instead of feeling like you’re under someone’s thumb.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Are you mad at me?” she whispered, still holding the card out to him.

“No, sweetheart. I ain’t mad. It’s just… no one thought about that. No one… No one thought of that except for you.”

She raised her brows. “Obviously, I’m the smartest person you know. Here, take it.”

He hesitated before he accepted the card. “Is this going to get you in trouble?” Bucky asked.

Darcy shook her head.

“Is this going to reduce what you’re getting?”

“Nope,” she replied. “Let’s just say I helped the federal government figure out how to give you restitution for all that time you spend as a prisoner of war.” She bumped her shoulder into his and smiled up at him. It felt good to do something that would help him live a better life, with or without her.


	22. Chapter 22

> _"I want to kiss the back of your neck, the top of your spine where your hair hits. And gnaw on your fingertips and fall asleep. I'll talk you to sleep. But I'll be the one and I will have chosen." - Lisa Loeb (Sandalwood)_

**[September 8, 2018, 11:02pm]**

Cool water lapping at his ankles when he rocked his feet back and forth and the sound of nocturnal insects buzzing and the pale light from the moon and Darcy’s voice and the scent of her shampoo when she rested her head on his shoulder. If he could just forget HYDRA and Ross then he could be so happy in that moment. _So happy_. Happier than he’d thought possible three or four years ago when he was struggling to remember who he was.

All he’d done was prompt her—asked her about her brothers—and away she’d went. Her distinct voice, sweet with a dash of dry humor, told him about David and Derek and Daniel. She noted that her mother had a thing for D’s, hence the first initial of all four children. Her mother’s name was Diana. Darcy lingered on stories of her brothers when they were children, but avoided talking about Diana. Bucky didn’t push because he knew what it was like to have that box in the corner of your brain that you didn’t want to open, especially if you were having a good moment. Sometimes memories could reach right into the present and destroy your peace.

When she’d talked herself out, he shifted. Darcy lifted her head off his shoulder so he could push himself to his feet and offer her a hand. She took his left hand without question, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Bucky kept hold of her while they made their way back to the deck and the door to the bedroom. Reluctantly, he released her once they were inside. The soft light from the bedside lamp was bright in comparison, and she blinked to adjust her eyes. Bucky forced himself to focus anywhere but on her. Lately, when he looked at her sometimes, he couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like he had a weight sitting on his chest.

“You want the bathroom first?” she asked, looking back at him where he’d stopped in the doorway.

Bucky shook his head. “Go ahead.”

She gathered clothes from her bag before slipping into the bathroom with them clutched in her arms. He pulled his shirt off and stared at the bed. It was smaller than they were used to. The king size one in the apartment allowed them both to sleep comfortably without ever worrying that they’d unintentionally touch. This bed, though, probably wouldn’t allow that. And Bucky had mixed feelings. He was slightly ashamed to admit the thrill he got at the prospect of waking up with her body against his.

Bucky sat down on the foot of the bed and focused on his breath. In to the count of four, hold for seven, out in eight. His thoughts shifted to her coming out of the bathroom and standing between his legs so he could kiss her chest and stomach, so he could wrap his arms around her and fall back onto the bed. The fantasy played out in his mind as he slipped his hands under her pajamas before pushing them up or down her body, whichever direction would give him access to more skin. He imagined she’d be responsive and arch into him, that she’d whisper his name when he touched her.

“Bucky? Hey, Bucky?”

He opened his eyes to find her in the doorway of the bathroom. “What?” he asked, eyes wide and feeling guilty. Did she know what he’d been thinking?

She gave him a quizzical smile. “Nothing. You just… your eyes were closed and you looked like you were in another world. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m… good. You ready for bed?”

“Yep. Bathroom’s all yours.”

He went into the little room and shut the door before splashing cold water on his face and leaning on the vanity. The mirror reflected a man he barely knew back at him. What did she see in him? Why did she care enough to plan and pay for a vacation to get him away from the city? The therapist Sam recommended he talk to had told Bucky he was concerned with Bucky’s self-worth issues. That had come up when Bucky told him that he had no idea why his wife did anything at all for him—no idea why she agreed to marry or why she cooked dinners or worried about him when he was away. According to the doctor, Darcy wasn’t the crazy one; Bucky was. Bucky begged to differ, but maybe that was why he was the one talking to a shrink.

He rubbed at the scar tissue where the vibranium arm connected to his shoulder before pushing his hair back with his right hand and grabbing his toothbrush. Once he’d taken care of his nightly ablutions, he turned out the light and opened the door. She’d flipped off the bedside lamp, but Bucky could still make out her form under the sheet of the bed. She’d kicked the duvet down so it wasn’t on her.

Bucky climbed into bed and laid down beside her, their shoulders almost touching. “Thanks for coming with me,” she whispered.

He smiled up at the ceiling. “Thanks for bringing me and… for everything, really. Just… everything.”

“I feel like we’ve come a long way these past two months. That first night we met in Wakanda feels like a lifetime ago,” she said.

“It does.”

“We make a good team.” Darcy’s tone straddled the line between statement and question.

“We do,” he agreed without hesitation. “I couldn’t do this with anyone but you, you know that right?”

“Oh, I think you’d figure it out. I’m not that special.”

“You are, actually,” he said. “I’m gonna owe you for the rest of my life, sweetheart.”

Darcy laughed softly. “Don’t say such nice things to me,” she told him. “Go to sleep.”

He should have said more, but he was terrified of how far he might go if he let himself tell her how he really felt about her, about how it was going to kill him to lose her when she inevitably moved on next year. Instead, he closed his eyes and focused on his breath again. In to the count of four, hold for seven, out in eight.

* * *

**[September 9, 2018, 9:25am]**

He’d woken before her and had lain in bed thinking about how her arm felt where it touched his arm, wishing she’d been restless and prone to drifting over to his side of the bed. She’d stayed mostly on her side, though. Bucky had gotten up and made coffee, put on some clothes, and walked down the long drive to the main road. Two different men were parked in a car on the side of the road. He’d nodded at them and made his way back to the house to catch her as she came out of the bathroom in a pair of denim shorts and a red tank top. Across the front of it was a laptop computer and the words, “Lady in the streets, freak in the spreadsheets.”

He didn’t quite get the reference, but he assumed it had something to do with technology he wasn’t familiar with. It made him feel old and ill-suited to keep up with her. She plucked a pastry out of a plastic container on the counter and invited him out on the deck with her to drink coffee. He declined. Instead, Bucky sat down on the couch with her Kindle. He’d finished her favorites and now he was torturing himself by reading the most recent novels she’d downloaded before he’d commandeered her device.

He skimmed through a rather explicit novel that wasn’t very good and that she’d apparently abandoned seventy pages into the text. Instead of joining her on the sunny deck, he stood in the window and looked at the back of her head as she sat in the chair. He felt restless and checked the news on his phone for any indication that more attacks had happened. It hadn’t occurred to him last night, but now all he could think of was Ross coming down in a helicopter and forcing him to leave Darcy in favor of a mission he couldn’t say no to. He didn’t have much recourse and Ross knew it. If he wanted to ensure Darcy’s safety, he needed to toe the line. It wasn’t that much to ask, though. He hadn’t been told to assassinate anyone or compromise himself. So, he’d deliberately interpreted the orders in such a way that he wouldn’t have to hurt anyone like those poor women and children who had been used as slave labor. But, all things considered, it wasn’t killing him to protect her. He was _helping_ keep the world safe from HYDRA and their war machine.

There was nothing in the news, so he built up his courage and stepped outside. She smiled at him as he pulled one of the Adirondack chairs over so he could sit beside her. “Hey,” she said.

“You want a refill?” Bucky nodded at her empty mug.

“A refill and a water?”

“Yes ma’am,” he told her before going inside to do as she’d asked.

She seemed inordinately pleased when he returned with a full mug and a cold bottle of water. “Best husband ever,” she told him.

Bucky laughed softly as he sat down. “I don’t know about that, sweetheart.”

“I’m going to be so disappointed when my second husband isn’t nearly as nice or as hot as you,” she told him, picking up her mug of coffee from the wide arm of the chair.

Thinking about her moving on with someone else made his chest ache. Bucky pulled in a deep breath as he nodded and looked out over the lake. The sun was behind them, reflecting off the water. Bucky picked up his own mug and took a drink of black coffee. It took him back to life before the fall when he and the other Howlies would make coffee in a kettle over a fire. They’d drink it out of beat-up tin mugs that had seen better days, and they’d drink it black because sugar and cream were luxuries out there on the front lines.

Those days felt so far away, like they had been lived by someone else. There were so many pieces to his disjointed life and assembling them into a past and a present to make a future seemed impossible. How was he ever going to reconcile the young man who’d have winked at Darcy and sweet-talked her into a date with the man that was sitting beside her, afraid to tell her that the thought of her looking at another man the way she looked at him made him sick to his stomach?

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Bucky shook his head. “So much.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” he admitted.

“Then tell me one thing.”

He took a drink of the coffee to give himself more time to consider what was safe to tell her. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to move forward. Everyone keeps telling me I need to, but… Am I?”

When he glanced over at her, she was chewing on her lower lip. After a pause, she said, “I don’t have any magic answers, but I don’t think moving forward is, like, a straight line. You know? Like, that saying—one step forward and two steps back. Except maybe for you it’s two steps forward and one step back. It’s slow going, but you get there. You just… have to find ways to keep yourself sane.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s the trick, right?”

She smiled at him and it was so warm and full of care for him that he wanted to reach out and pull her out of her chair and into his lap. He just wanted to _touch_ her and make her understand how he felt. “I am by no means an expert or even very successful at moving forward. I know how to run away. I am a fucking pro at cutting and running. Moving forward?” She shrugged. “Eh, not so much.” Darcy stuck her legs out and wiggled her toes. They were painted neon orange. “Years ago, I read this interview with a musician I like. He was talking about struggling with finding happiness or, like, just supporting yourself so you can try to be happy or whatever.”

He didn’t reply because he wanted to give her space to tell him what she wanted to say. He wanted to hear anything she’d give him.

Darcy glanced over. “I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was something like how he learned to build a nest to hold himself. Like, he’d gather things that he found worth in or happiness in—even little things or _especially_ little things—and used them to weave a nest that would support him, give him a place to go when he needed that support. Does that make sense?”

“Like, a house?”

“No, like… a place inside you. Like, you take songs that feel like they reach inside you and make you _feel_ and you weave them with books that do the same thing and maybe movies, too. And you add your favorite foods and good memories that stick with you and good friends who love you. And you just weave it into this nest. And it doesn’t have to look pretty or be useful to anyone else but you because it’s to hold you when you need to be held.” Darcy gave him a shy, unsure smile. “I hope that doesn’t sound silly.”

Bucky closed his eyes before he turned his head away. “No, it don’t sound silly, sweetheart.” He wanted to tell her it was exactly what he was trying to do, but the materials for his nest were in short supply and he didn’t know how to weave what he had together.

“Talk to me,” she said.

He turned his head back to her. “I don’t know how to fit the pieces I have together.”

“What do you have?”

“Umm, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said, taking a drink of her coffee.

“Well, I have Steve.”

She nodded. “And?”

“And…” Bucky searched his brain. “And coffee,” he said, holding up his mug.

Darcy chuckled. “Of course, coffee.”

“And Shuri. She’s like my little kid sister who drives me crazy because she’s way too smart. And I have this new arm that doesn’t have HYDRA’s star on it. And… The X-Files? Is that allowed?”

She laughed out loud this time. “It better be; it’s part of my nest, too. I don’t think there are rules on what you can include. Beggars can’t be choosers, you know?”

“Okay. Tommy Dorsey.”

“Who’s Tommy Dorsey?”

“Musician from when I was younger. He was popular in the thirties.”

She nodded. “I forget you’re an old man sometimes.”

“Hey, respect your elders,” he told her, settling back into his chair. “Orson Wells and Issac Asimov.”

“You absolute nerd,” Darcy said, smiling at him.

“What?” Bucky asked, unable to hold back his grin. “I like science fiction. Always have.”

“Lasagna and fresh donuts that are still warm. Hot dogs from Nathan’s in Coney Island. Memories of kissing girls under the boardwalk.”

Darcy laughed again. “Player.”

“Listening to your playlist while we drove out here.” He paused and said, “This moment right now.”

She looked up at the blue sky. “This _is_ a good moment, isn’t it?”

“You.” Bucky held his breath after he said it, afraid to even look at her.

“I get to be part of your nest?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that she was the glue that was keeping his nest together, but it was too revealing to admit as much. “Of course, you do.”

Darcy took another drink of her coffee and turned her attention to the lake in front of them. “If I’m part of your nest, then I’m going to have to spruce the place up a little bit. We need to find more decorations.”

Bucky chuckled. “Okay. What do you recommend?”

“So, you like sci-fi. Ever read any Philip K. Dick?”

“Nope.”

“Oh man, you’re missing out. Do you still have one of the Kindles? We can download a couple of his novels. Most of them are pretty short. You could knock one or two out today.”

He smiled when he said, “Well, I guess I could. I finished all your favorites.”

Darcy groaned held a hand up as if she was trying to block her face from his view. “Please don’t remind me that you read my dirty books. I’d like to continue living my life in denial about you know I like dirty talk and head.”

Bucky had picked the wrong time to take a drink of coffee because her comment made the liquid go down the wrong pipe, leaving him sputtering and coughing. “Head?” he asked when he was able to catch his breath.

Darcy raised her brows and widened her eyes, “Uhhh, was that not the slang back… Oh, okay, nevermind,” she said. “I cannot explain this to you. Pretend I didn't say the words I said.”

“I know how to look things up on the internet, you know.” Bucky told her, curious about what she could have meant by head. His brain was making connections, remembering the books he’d read. There were definitely some filthy-mouthed sex scenes. What else?

“Look it up,” she said.

Bucky pulled out his phone and typed ‘head’ into the search field. Nothing. Well, nothing but pictures of and information on the part of your body that sat on your neck. He went back to the search field and typed ‘head sex’ and waited for the results to load. Google asked him if he wanted to know what head means sexually. Yes, he did. Bucky touched the link and scanned the brief definition that basically amounted to _oral sex_. He swallowed and remembered all those scenes that made him lick his lips as he thought about burying his face between her thighs. Yeah.

When he looked up at her, she had a hand over her face and was peeking through her spread fingers. “So, on a scale of one to ten, I’m a solid seven embarrassed,” she told him.

Bucky laughed and tucked his phone away. His cheeks were a little pink, too, but it might be more about his desire than any embarrassment. She _liked_ it. If she liked it, then couldn’t he just offer to help her? Couldn’t he just… tell her it would be all his pleasure and see if she would taste and smell as good as he thought she would? “Don’t be embarrassed. Nothing to be embarrassed about. You know what you like.”

“Well, I don’t go around just telling guys this kind of thing.”

“Maybe you should,” he said.

This time Darcy was the one having a coughing fit. “You think that’ll get me anywhere?”

“Sure,” he replied.

“So I just go up to some random dude and tell him I’m into it?”

Bucky felt that surge of jealousy at the mention of her going to another man for that kind of thing. “On second thought, probably not. Don’t do that.”

Laughing, she said, “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He wanted to tell her it definitely wasn’t what she thought and that the only reason he’d said that was because he wanted to be the only guy who knew her in that way. She was his wife, after all. They had matching rings on their fingers; they’d made silly little vows; he was…. Bucky halted that train of thought, terrified of where it led and how it would feel stuck in that place without her when this sham of a marriage was over.

He’d known it from the beginning. He’d known it from that first conversation and the way Steve had talked about her being just Bucky’s type. He’d even fought with Steve about it, telling his friend that developing feelings for her wouldn’t be a good thing; it would just make it that much more difficult.

“You want me to help you download something to read?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts as they ran in circles.

“What are you going to do all day?”

“Sit out here in the sun, eat that almond croissant if you don’t get it before me, stare at you while you read.”

He chuckled.

She pointed at him as her face lit up. “Actually, how about we download a novel and I’ll read it to you.”

It was easy to agree to her proposal since it was the best of both worlds. He got to enjoy a story and spend time listening to her voice. “Okay,”

“Yeah? That easy?”

“That easy. What are you going to read to me?”

She scrunched her nose up as she gave the question some thought. “How do you feel about an alternate history of the Second World War? Is that too triggery?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s a story called The Man in the High Castle. It’s fairly short and is about another reality where, uh, Germany and Japan win the war and pretty much take over the world.” She paused and pulled a face. “Ugh, sorry. That was… stupid of me. I mean, of course that’s triggery for you. That’s… so stupid. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.”

“I thought of it because of your past and stuff and... I guess I thought you’d think it was interesting, but… yeah. We could read another one called Do—”

“Let’s read this one,” he said. “It does sound interesting and… it’s just a story. You know?”

“Bucky, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to. I’m okay. I don’t… I don’t want you to tiptoe around me. I want to be okay. I want to… I want to be okay and enjoy things with you. I want to try.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, but we could try with something a little less sensitive.”

“I’m a big boy,” he told her.

“Uh, yeah…” she said, flashing him a cute little wink that made him laugh softly under his breath.

“I can handle it. Let’s… do it. I’ll go get the Kindle.”

She reached out to him. “Hey,” Darcy said, “you’ll stop me if it makes you uncomfortable, right?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

**[September 9, 2018, 7:49pm]**

They ate dinner at the small two-person table in the corner of the kitchen. The window next to the table gave them a view of the thick forest that darkened by the minute as the sun sank lower in the sky.

“So,” Darcy said, tossing her napkin onto her empty plate. “What’d you think of the novel? I didn’t want to ask you earlier because sometimes I need time to digest what I’ve read or seen.”

She’d started reading The Man in the High Castle on the deck. They’d moved inside when the sun got a little too uncomfortable in the afternoon. She’d finished the final chapter on the couch with his head in her lap.

“It was good. Strange, but good. Makes me uncomfortable to think… to think that something like that could have happened. What did happen was bad enough, but…”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No,” he told her. “No, don’t— Don’t worry about me. I’m not upset. It was a good book. I liked it. It.... put things into perspective. Sometimes I think about the war and what happened to me, but… it was so much bigger. Little changes could have turned things into something so much worse. I’m glad you read it to me.” He smiled at her from across the little table. “I’m not good at explaining what I’m thinking.”

“No, you’re great at it. I’m glad you liked it, Bucky.”

“Maybe you can read me another tomorrow?”

“I’ll come up with a good one. Sci-fi or fantasy, right?”

“Whatever you want, doll. I’ll love whatever you read.”

She raised her brows. “Better be careful what you say or I’ll read you one of my romance novels.”

She meant it as a threat, but just the idea of her lips forming those words in that order sent a thrill through him. Her talking about lips and tongues and hands and skin and heads thrown back in pleasure… “Wouldn’t stop you,” he murmured, looking up at her through his lashes.

Darcy stared back, lips parted in surprise, for a moment before she laughed and said, “Shut the fuck up, dude. Whatever. Don’t call my bluff.”

“Then don’t bluff,” he replied.

Darcy reached down and balled up her napkin before throwing it right at his face. The crumpled-up paper napkin bounced off his nose and back onto the table. “Don’t cry when I pay you back for that,” he warned, flashing her a grin.

“You’re too nice to do anything to me,” she accused.

Bucky raised a brow. “You think?”

She shifted in her seat, looking a little unsure. “I’m, like, eighty-five percent sure you’re too nice.”

“And fifteen percent thinks…”

“Thinks that I’m going to watch my back when I’m out on the dock so you don’t push me in the lake.”

He chuckled. “I’d never.” Bucky got up and took her plate. ‘I’ll clean up, though.”

“See, so nice. What a model husband. Cooking and cleaning and looking like the hottest hottie that ever hottied.”

Halfway to the sink, he turned around to look at her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” she replied, pressing her lips together to hide her smile. “I’ll help.” Darcy got up and walked over to the sink with him.

Turning, he blocked her and said, “I’ve got it. Go outside and enjoy the sunset on the dock.”

“Are you trying to send me to the scene of the future payback crime?”

“No, I’m trying to live up to the title of best husband ever. Go relax.”

She gave him a sweet smile while she grabbed his shoulder for balance. He hadn’t even had time to prepare for it. Suddenly, her lips were on his cheek and then they were gone and she was walking off. He watched her ass sway as she walked into the bedroom so she could exit out the patio door there.

Bucky exhaled and shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about her ass or her lips or any other part of her.

* * *

**[September 9, 2018, 9:12pm]**

He’d just returned from his nightly check-in with the stakeout detail by the road. Bucky called Ross on his way back to the cabin.

“I ain’t going anywhere and you know it,” he told the man. “She deserves to live where she wants to live so I won't jeopardize that. You’re wasting their time and mine by having them sit out front.”

“You’re an asset to this team, but you’ve not been entirely cooperative,” Ross said. “Surely you can appreciate the position you’ve put me in? I let you have your little honeymoon and I even agreed to very permissive security. You should be happy.”

All Bucky heard was the word ‘asset’ as it echoed in his head, bouncing around like a rubber ball. “I am _not_ your fucking asset. I am a free citizen with amnesty and a fucking pardon. I’ll do you fucking missions because I want to keep her safe and doing what I can to find HYDRA does that, but I’m not your toy. You don’t get to tell me how to live my life and you don’t get to shoehorn yourself into the middle of my relationship with her.”

“Cooperate and—”

“I _am_ cooperating. I don’t have to do any of this, remember? Do you want to see what it’s like when I don’t cooperate?” he asked as his mind settled into that chilly, still space that allowed him to think clearly and make difficult decisions during missions. “I can break more than your desk.”

“Are you _threatening_ me?” Ross asked, his voice lifting a couple of octaves.

“Don’t touch her, let me have my privacy, and I’ll do your missions. I spent decades being someone’s asset, and I’m done with that. You want my help, then you ask for it. And you call off your fucking dogs so I can have dinner with my wife without worrying about getting out to the road to check in like I’m on probation.”

“You’re not on probation, but we—”

“My contract says I’ve got amnesty. I’ve put up with a lot from you, Ross. You need me. You can’t run these missions without me. So, you better start trusting me.”

Ross was silent for a few seconds before he said, “You could run.”

“Do you think those two guys in the car are gonna stop me? Yeah, they might give you a heads up, but I could be out of the country faster than you can assemble a team to take me out. Your A team is still looking for HYDRA.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll remove them from duty. They stay in town, but they won’t sit outside the property. If you leave, I’ll hunt you down and—”

“I’m not leaving. She and I are here for the week. I’m right where I want to be.” He hung up and circled back in the woods to make sure the car was gone. He had been telling the truth; he had no intention of leaving. He just wanted to pretend like life was better than what it actually was. He wanted to pretend like he and Darcy were spending the week on a romantic getaway in the middle of nowhere and that nothing was wrong even if more things were wrong than right, including this relationship built on a lie.

When he got back to the house, he found her sitting at the end of the dock with her feet in the water. He slipped off his shoes by the door and joined her.

“Hey,” Bucky whispered as he sat down beside her in the dark.

“It’s so quiet out here,” she told him.

“It is. Do you hate it?”

She laid her head on his shoulder. “No. It’s nice. I was hoping it would remind you of living in the hut next to the farm in Wakanda.”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart. I love it.”

They sat there listening to a few nocturnal birds calling out. The air was humid and still, and the surface of the water was like a mirror reflecting the moon. The only disturbances were ripples where their feet entered the water. “It was so hot today. It seems unusual for September,” Darcy said, breaking the silence between them.

“Mmm,” Bucky agreed. “It’s still pretty hot out here.”

Darcy lifted her head off his shoulder and looked out over the lake before shifting to turn her body towards him. “You wanna do something crazy?” she asked.

“How crazy?”

“Well, that’s all relative, right? On my scale, it’s like a six on a scale of one to ten.”

“Sure,” Bucky replied, chuckling at the expectant look in her eyes.

“Let’s go swimming.” Darcy stood up and held her hand down to help him up.

Bucky remained where he was, looking up at her. “I don’t have any trunks.”

“And I don’t have a bathing suit,” she replied.

He swallowed as the implication settled in and he really considered the prospect of seeing more skin. “Are you telling me that skinny dipping is only a six on your scale?”

Darcy’s eyes widened. “No! Skinny dipping is a seven. Skinny dipping with you is a ten.”

“Why am I a ten?” he asked.

“Uh, have you seen yourself? Sometimes my brain goes sideways when you take your shirt off.” She waggled her hand in front of his face so he finally took it and stood up next to her. “I’m talking about swimming in our underwear. I mean, it’s practically like a bathing suit, right? Same diff.”

“Right.” He felt like she was railroading him and he didn’t really mind all that much if it meant she was going to take her clothes off.

She smiled, but now she looked a little nervous. “So?”

“Okay,” he said.

She froze. “Just like that, you’re gonna jump in the lake with me?”

He smiled. “I told Ross to fuck off on my way back here from checking in with our babysitters. And he listened. I mean, I still owe him work on missions, but he pulled the security detail. I feel like I have some control back and it feels amazing. So… yeah, let’s go swimming.”

She laughed and it sounded giddy and so happy that it was infectious. “Strip,” she demanded, dropping her hands to the button and zipper on her shorts. Suddenly, he wondered if maybe he was in too deep. The thought only stuck around for a moment before it was replaced with more salacious ones involving her body when she shimmied out of her shorts. He could make out dark lace panties cutting over the pale cheeks of her ass when she turned away from him to pull her shirt over her head like she was ripping a bandage off.

For a brief moment, Bucky saw her standing there in a matching bra and panties before Darcy squealed and jumped off the end of the dock. The ripple went far out into the lake before she came up for air a few yards away. “This is an eight on the crazy scale,” he told her, pulling his shirt off and tossing it on the wooden dock with her discarded clothing.

She treaded water and laughed while he unbuttoned his jeans. “You’re kinda dragging this stripping thing out. Are you trying to give me a show?” she asked.

Bucky huffed out a breath of laughter himself before saying, “You want one?”

“Uh, for sure I do,” she replied before ducking under the dark water. When she surfaced again, she was even further out. Her dark hair was plastered over her bare shoulders and her eyes went a little wide when he stepped out of his pants.

Bucky held out his arms and looked down at his body. “What?”

“Uh, so… wow. I thought you wore boxers.”

He gave a nervous little chuckle as he realized he had on one of the pairs of boxer briefs she’d bought him that first day together in New York. They had been part of a joke or story they’d never used with Ross or Tafford, but Bucky couldn’t seem to get it out of his head that she might like him in them. And even though he’d never shown them to her, he liked to put them on underneath his clothes and pretend like she knew. It made him feel silly to think about it, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit that to her. Instead, he just shrugged and said, “I like them. They’re comfortable.”

“So, yeah… I agree. This is an eight on the crazy scale. When you get those gray undies wet, then it’s going to be a ten, though. Just so you know.”

Bucky tilted his head back as he laughed at how silly she was and how good it made him feel.

“Get in and stop teasing me with your muscles,” she whined.

The rush of adrenaline propelled him off the dock, and he went into the water feet first. As he sank lower, a strange sense of euphoria coursed through him. The water was cool but not cold, and it felt good against his overheated skin. When Bucky broke the surface, he was still yards from Darcy. All he could make out in the dark was her smile.

“Is the arm like an anchor?” she asked.

He laughed and swiped a hand along the surface, splashing water in her direction even though it never quite reached her. “No,” he told her.

“I can’t believe I talked you into this,” Darcy said as she swam a little closer to him.

“Me neither. I think… It’s just been a _good_ day. You know?” He looked up at the stars breaking up the darkness of the sky above them. “I’ve been… content… or, actually, I’ve been happy today.”

She came close enough for him to make out all of her features. She was still smiling, and she looked so genuinely pleased for him that he nearly lost his breath. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’m happy, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, _yeah_. Happy I got to see you in your sexy underwear.” She was trying to keep a straight face, but that sly little smirk on her face was still there.

Bucky lunged toward her, but the water didn’t allow him to get very far. She squealed when the tips of his fingers grazed her arm, and then she was gone. She’d slipped under the surface to swim away or hide. His pulse was pounding as he thought about chasing her down and pulling her against his body and kissing her mouth. Kissing all over her body, actually. Down the column of her neck, over her shoulders, across her chest to the peaks of her nipples hidden under that lacy bra.

Instinct kicked in as he watched the surface for movement. Finally detecting a disturbance a few yards to his right, he submerged and moved forward. It was much too dark to see underwater, but it was almost like he could _feel_ her. When he surfaced, she was within an arm’s length of him. Darcy gasped in surprise and swatted at the water, splashing it at him before she turned to escape.

Bucky let her, instead calling out when she surfaced again. “You want me to let you win?”

“Depends,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face. The moment allowed him to glimpse the way her bra supported the swell of her breast.

“Depends on what?” he asked.

“What I win.”

Her response made him laugh. “Bragging rights,” he said.

She splashed him again. “Lame. Bragging rights don’t do anything for me.”

“Okay,” he said, circling around her. “What do I get if I can catch you, then?”

She turned so she could keep him in her field of vision. “What do you want? Breakfast in bed? Help playing another practical joke on Steve? Me to do the laundry for once in my life?”

“How about… a kiss?” he asked, holding his breath as he stopped to watch her reaction.

“Okay.” Darcy’s reply was quick, easy.

“Then what do you get if you escape?” he asked as thoughts about what a real kiss would be like took over his mind.

“Ummmm….” She smiled and said, “You have to cook dinner for a week.”

“Okay,” he agreed. Part of him thought maybe he should let her win so he could repay her for all those days he wasn’t capable of doing much of anything and she picked up the slack without a single complaint.

“Well?” she asked. “What are you waiting for? Come and get me.”

Bucky clenched his teeth as a surge of adrenaline spiked with potent lust surged through his mind and body. She moved to the left and he took off after her, diving into the water and grasping at it as he felt for her. When his hand brushed against something warm, he pushed forward and wrapped his right arm around what must have been her torso. It was disorienting since he’d been expecting to grab her foot has she was kicking away from him.

He came up out of the water to find her right where she’d been a moment earlier. “Oh, darn,” Darcy said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “You caught me.”

When he opened his mouth, nothing came out but a disbelieving and breathy chuckle. “Did you throw the game?” he asked her.

“Nooooo,” Darcy said, shaking her head slowly, all wide-eyed innocence. “You were just really fast and I was really slow. Guess you win.”

Her body was warm against his as he pulled her a little closer, kicking his feet to continue treading water with her. “You either don’t like my cooking or you wanted a kiss,” Bucky whispered, looking at a drop of water hanging off the bow of her upper lip.

She licked it away, never taking her eyes off him. “Your cooking is great.”

He felt sluggish with desire as everything in the world slowed down until it felt like they were at a standstill. There was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, and he could feel it as much as see it. Everything else just stopped.

“You let me win,” he whispered. The feeling of holding her in his arms like this, like there was something between them beyond the strange little friendship they’d built, made him feel hazy and drunk. Some thoughts were lumbering and others were fast as lightning.

Darcy licked her lips. “Maybe just a little bit,” she admitted. He could feel the press of her fingertips digging into his shoulders—the flesh one and the vibranium one.

Her pink lips were full and parted. He couldn’t take his eyes off them as he leaned forward and dropped a hand to cup her ass when he felt one of her legs hook around his thighs. Bucky worked to keep them afloat while he leaned forward and dipped his head down. He went slow, partly because he felt like this was all just a dream and partly because he was waiting for her to stop this madness. She didn’t stop it. In fact, she tilted her chin up and closed her eyes.

Bucky stopped, his lips mere centimeters from hers, exhaling a shuddering breath. He should stop. This was too far, too much, too crazy. This was different than holding hands and lying about a relationship. This was putting his mouth on her when no one was watching for no reason other than because he craved her and wanted to be close to her. Because he wanted to do anything that would make her happy, make her understand how needed she was and how much she’d come to mean to him.

Darcy squeezed his shoulders as if urging him to make a move. Pull back or dive in. On instinct, he closed that scant space between them and brushed his lips against hers. She didn’t move at first; it was just him testing the waters with her as he tried to remember how it went—the perfect tilt of his head, the right pressure on her lips, the exact moment to part his lips and take her lower one between them. He wanted it to be right; he wanted to make her feel the way he felt. And yet, all he could seem to accomplish was a chaste kiss on her lips followed by an aborted attempt at deepening it.

She, being the angel she was, took pity on him and slipped the hand that had been on his left shoulder up to clamp on the back of his neck. Bucky gasped as she leaned into him, her tits encased in the lacy bra pressed all over his chest. Darcy tilted her head and kissed him properly. Or rather, she took the lead and then gave it up to him as memories of making out with dames in alleys outside soda shops and under the boardwalk at the shore came trickling back into his consciousness. They all paled in comparison to the way Darcy felt in his arms, but at least he didn’t feel quite so useless as he hiked her up against his body with the hand cupping her ass and swiped his tongue over her full lower lip. She groaned before tentatively touching the tip of her tongue to his.

Bucky felt like she’d lit him on fire as he deepened the kiss, forgetting about where they were and what they were doing. When he stopped kicking his legs and moving his free arm, they slipped down until the surface of the water joined the kiss, lapping at both their lips.

Darcy sputtered and unhooked her leg to keep herself afloat, laughing and looking anywhere but at him. “Sorry,” she murmured as she released her hold on him and let herself glide back a foot. It was just a few inches, but the distance hurt. “I, uh… well…” Another nervous laugh followed the jumbled words. “Guess we’re giving the spies out there an eyeful tonight,” she quipped.

There were no spies out there tonight. Bucky was sure of that. He’d spent years being hyper-aware of watchful eyes. The night was quiet and anyone making their way along the treeline would have made noise as they stepped through the underbrush. He knew there were no spies, and she did, too. He’d told her Ross had ordered his men to clear out of the area and go back to the nearest town. She’d said they were giving the spies a show anyway. It was an easy way to defuse the situation and give him an excuse for what had happened. Maybe even give herself an excuse for touching him, kissing him. Bucky didn’t want an excuse. He just wanted her.

_You can’t have her_, he reminded himself. She wasn’t his for the taking. She was here to pay off her debt and help him out in the process. This wasn’t a matchmaking service; they weren’t supposed to actually fall in love. Bucky’s stomach twisted up at that thought. He couldn’t speak for her, but it was too late for him. She was easy to care about, easy to fall for. Easy to love. He’d thought those days were over for him, but… But then there was _Darcy_.

“Yeah,” he agreed, swallowing the disappointment and pain. “I guess we are.” Bucky cleared his throat. He wanted to ask her why they were fooling themselves, but he didn’t have the courage. What if she regretted the kiss? What if she didn’t want this to be for real because she was counting down the days when she wouldn’t have to be his hand holder and his wife for hire?

Bucky swam past her and stopped at the dock, gripping onto the wooden boards at the end as he closed his eyes and tried to make the feel and the taste of her on his lips go away. When he heard the water moving behind him, he hauled himself up and stood on the dock, looking down at her. Her eyes were wide and her jaw was hanging open.

Darcy swept her gaze up his body, from his feet up to the clinging fabric of the gray boxer-briefs to his stomach and chest. She stopped when she met his gaze in the low light cast by the lamp on the deck. “I, um… I… You have… lots of muscles.”

Bucky raised his brows and then smiled at the dazed look on her face. “Knockoff super-soldier serum,” he said, feeling his cock twitch at the way she was checking him out.

“Uh, huh,” she agreed, grabbing onto the end of the dock.

Before she could even attempt to pull herself out of the water, he reached down and offered her his left hand. She took it and then grabbed his right as well. Bucky pulled her straight up out of the water until she could get her feet beneath her and stand in front of him. She was so close and all he could see was the dark blue satin and lace that made up her panties and bra. It contrasted with her pale skin. Less than two minutes ago, he’d held her in his arms and now he was standing there like an idiot, wishing he could drop to his knees and slide the crotch of her panties aside.

Darcy’s cheeks were pink when she leaned to the side and wrung her hair out. “It’s kinda cold now,” she said, faking a shiver before slipping past him. Bucky turned and watched her go through the door of the bedroom. He’d read one too many of her romance novels and now all he could think about was hooking his fingers in the hips of her panties so he could pull them down and make her come for him.

“Not going to happen,” he warned himself, pressing a palm over his erection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading all of your comments. Tomorrow Bucky will get his hands on Darcy again. He might even get her on a date, too. You didn't think I was going to actually end this slow burn back there on the dock right? Pfft!


	23. Chapter 23

> _"Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones turn into something beautiful. You know, you know I love you so. You know I love you so. I swam across, I jumped across for you. Oh what a thing to do. 'Cause you were all yellow." - Coldplay (Yellow)_

**[September 9, 2018, 10:04pm]**

Darcy was trembling by the time she got into the bathroom and shut the door, but it wasn’t from the drop in temperature. The shaking hands had more to do with a terrible mix of embarrassment and arousal and longing. Why did she always put her foot in her mouth when it came to moments like that? Why couldn’t she have just let him take the lead instead of pulling away and joking about giving Ross’ men a show? He’d told her those guys had been sent home. Now he probably thought she’d kissed him as part of their cover with General Ross and the American government.

Really, she’d kissed him because there was no one else on the earth, past or present, she wanted to kiss more. When he’d told her what he wanted for winning the game of cat and mouse they were playing, she’d decided that she wouldn’t even try to deny him a little make-out session. Not if he was asking. Who the fuck was she to turn _him_ down? She’d been concocting elaborate fantasies in her head about this weird relationship morphing into something more for far longer than she should have, considering they’d only known each other for two months.

Cursing herself for being awkward and feeling overwhelming embarrassment that he probably thought she was a loser of the highest degree, Darcy dried her hair and changed into a dry pair of panties. She discarded the bra and replaced it with a long nightshirt with ice cream cones printed all over the fabric. Yep, she was a loser. She was wearing a nightshirt some fourteen-year-old girl would wear and she’d just made a fool of herself by freaking out over a kiss with the hottest guy she’s ever met.

After brushing her teeth and finishing her nightly routine, she slipped out into the bedroom to find the light off and Bucky already in bed. “Hey,” she whispered, slipping under the covers on her side.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in the darkness of the room. “I was outta line.”

Her nervous laugh sounded loud in the stillness of the room. “It’s fine. You weren’t… You weren’t out of line or anything. I, uh, well… It takes two to tango, you know? I was a participant. Don’t… apologize.”

They laid there, side-by-side on their backs and stared at the ceiling. Finally, Bucky said, “Today was a good day.”

Darcy smiled. “Yeah, it was. Let’s make tomorrow a good one, too.”

“Deal.”

After a brief pause, she said, “So, I should probably buy you more boxer-briefs, right? I mean, if you’re going to wear them, then… it’s only fair that you have an ample selection for, like, womankind. Right?”

He chuckled. “Sweetheart, you say the most ridiculous things sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

He rolled onto his side to face her. “And I love it,” he agreed without a moment’s hesitation.

She closed her eyes, but all she could see was his face, inches from her own, and the look in his eyes as he tilted his head to go in for a kiss. All she could feel was the soft press of his lips against hers. He’d said himself; it was a good day. Maybe they were both feeling a little too carefree and happy. Maybe the kiss was just a symptom of him feeling like he had his independence back, like he could start living again instead of just existing.

* * *

**[September 10, 2018, 12:10pm]**

She was lying on her stomach on the dock, just a foot from the end. The wood was warm from the sun, which had just disappeared behind clouds that had blown in. She hadn’t exactly slept well last night, not with her brain running in circles over Bucky and what exactly the kiss meant for their present and future. She vacillated between thinking it would change nothing to thinking it would change everything for the good or bad.

She’d been dozing early that morning just before sunrise when he’d slipped out of bed and taken a shower. Darcy had feigned sleep until he was in the kitchen. She’d heard the faint noises of him making coffee—the water running, the sounds of the coffee bag. When he’d come back through the bedroom, she’d shut her eyes. After the door had opened and closed, she’d opened them again to find him sitting on the deck in one of the chairs with his mug. Only then had Darcy gotten up and spent an hour experiencing mild panic in the bathroom over what was happening between her and Bucky.

It wasn’t helped by the pot on the stove. It was filled with foamy coffee—Turkish coffee to be exact. She’d intended on making some the day before but had taken the easy way out with coffee prepared by the drip machine on the corner of the counter. He must have looked up a recipe because it was delicious and rich. Perfect, just like him.

He hadn’t been cold, exactly, but he’d spent the morning being distant, formal, maybe even a little awkward. His eyes followed her when she moved, and she could feel the intensity of it. Even now as she lay there with one of the chair cushions and an oversized towel beneath her, she could feel him staring at her from his seat on the deck up against the cabin. Maybe he regretted what they’d done last night. Maybe her enthusiasm had scared him. Maybe he’d been joking with her and intended to throw the game so he could cook her dinner since he was a nice guy, and maybe she’d ruined that by not even trying to win. Maybe he was just being nice to her. The excuses sat awkwardly in her head because they didn’t _feel_ right. There was definitely something between them, but that didn’t mean Bucky wanted to pursue it.

She laid her head down on her folded arms and tried to concentrate on something other than the man behind her who was, technically, her husband. She rubbed the band around her right ring finger and closed her eyes. Would she actually want to be married even after all this was over and Bucky’s freedom was cemented? The answer made her uncomfortable because she couldn’t imagine _not_ seeing him every day. She _could_ imagine him finding a woman much prettier and more interesting than her and remarrying, though. Bucky and that nameless woman would have beautiful children and be happy in their perfect life. And Darcy would be carrying bags of equipment up a steep incline in Argentina for Jane. She’d be a silly little quirky thing from his past, something he and his new wife would laugh about. She’d be the one he married before he actually got his real life back. She’d be discarded.

Darcy felt sick to her stomach. Why the fuck had she agreed to this charade anyway? If she’d known how much she’d come to care for him, maybe she could have chosen more wisely when Steve and Natasha had asked her about playing house with him for a year. How could she just… move on, though? She’d almost told him she loved him on the phone before that last mission. It had just slipped out so smoothly like it wasn’t even a question. And it hadn’t been part of the ruse at all. It had been the _truth_.

She was so consumed by her thoughts, she didn’t even hear him approach until he sat down on the dock with his back to her, legs hanging over the side. “Your back is a little red,” he said. “You need sunscreen.”

She looked at the set of his shoulders and the loose knot of hair at the nape of his neck. He was in a pair of basketball shorts and a white tee, but she’d opted for a bikini top and a pair of cotton shorts she usually only wore to bed. He’d seen that and then some last night when they’d jumped into the lake, so she didn’t have anything to hide, even in the harsh light of day. Maybe he’d see her in sunlight and set her straight, tell her that whatever happened last night wasn’t going to happen again because she just wasn’t his type of woman. She was good enough to pretend with, but not actually…

Bucky sat the tube of sunscreen from her bag on the deck in front of her.

“Sun isn’t even out,” she told him.

“I read an article that says you can get sunburned even through clouds. It’s still bright out here.”

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked him, ignoring the sunscreen and his concern.

He didn’t turn around when he said, “Was gonna ask you if you’d find another book for me like the one we read yesterday.”

She wanted to reach out and touch his back, but things had been a bit brittle between them since last night. “How about a different author? A woman this time?”

“Sure,” he readily agreed.

“Ursula K. Le Guin wrote a book called The Lathe of Heaven. I read somewhere that it was her tribute to Philip K. Dick and his style or subject matter or whatever. I read it when I was, like, seventeen. I don’t remember it all, but I remember it was good and weird. It’s about a man whose dreams change reality and another man who discovers it and tries to use him to build a better world, but that second guy just ends up power-hungry.”

When she turned her head to look up, Bucky was glancing over his shoulder at her. “Okay,” he said.

“You’re an easy sell.”

“I like listening to you read,” he replied. “But I have a condition.”

“What’s that,” Darcy asked, rolling halfway onto her side.

His gaze dropped to her chest, no doubt seeing the way her tits were trying to come out of the bikini top. As fast as he’d looked he’d shifted his eyes down to the wooden dock. Clearing his throat, Bucky said, “You put on that sunscreen.”

“The sun isn’t—”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said. “I told you I read it—”

“Okay, okay. Sunscreen it is. Go get the Kindle.”

Bucky got up with more ease and grace than she could ever hope to have and retreated to the cabin to find the Kindle she’d plugged in by the nightstand the previous day. She’d slathered on more than enough sunscreen to her chest, arms, and neck while he was gone. Darcy was rubbing it into her calves and the front of her thighs as she sat on the dock when he returned with the Kindle in hand.

She wiped her hands off on the towel she’d been lying on before making a grabbing motion at him. Bucky just smiled down at her when he handed the device over. “I can’t reach my back so you’ll have to be satisfied with my half-assed job or you can do it yourself,” Darcy told him.

He lowered himself to the dock next to her as she rolled over onto her stomach. After adjusting the pillow she was hugging under her chest, she navigated to the store and downloaded the Le Guin novel she’d mentioned. Bucky reached out with his left hand to snatch the tube of sunscreen caught her eye. She heard the cap flip open and held her breath, waiting to see if he was actually going to call her bluff.

“Your back is what’s red,” he murmured, squirting a bit directly onto her skin right in the center of her back. “You mind?” Bucky asked.

“By all means,” Darcy told him. “Go for it.” She wanted to tell him it wasn’t like he needed to ask since they’d touched each other on the back and more last night when they’d been kissing. She very distinctly remembered one of his strong hands cupping her ass, fingertips digging into the flesh. But they weren’t talking about that. He hadn’t mentioned the kiss in the light of day, so neither did she. Darcy didn’t know what she’d say if she had to talk about it. Confess that she was maybe-kinda falling in love with him and all she could think about sometimes when they were in bed together was scooting over to press herself against his body? Probably a bad idea to show her hand like that, she thought.

She opened the e-book at the same moment his right hand touched her lower back, fingers spread wipe and warm palm sweeping up the column of her spine as he spread the sunscreen as he went. She sank her teeth into her lower lip in an effort not to groan. Maybe it was the feeling of his skin against hers or the perfect pressure he exerted as the heel of his hand moved up and then down to rest in the small of her back just above her ass.

“Okay?” he asked.

Darcy swallowed and closed her eyes. “Yep.” Her voice sounded strained.

“Sure?”

She lowered her forehead to the cushion below her. “Uh, huh. It’s good. Great. Amazing.”

Bucky moved his hand up her back again, this time sliding to the side and curling his fingers around her side until he hit the strap of her bikini top. “Amazing?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Darcy agreed. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

He chuckled softly under his breath. “Yeah?” She felt him lift his hand and slide it up the other side of her back, He skipped over the strap of her top and spread the lotion across her upper back, fingers curling over her shoulders and ghosting along her neck.

“Wow, wow, wow,” she whispered, shifting her hips. “That feels… the best.” The only thing in recent memory that rivaled his hand on her back was the feeling of his lips on her mouth.

His laugh was a bit louder this time. He stilled his movements and then she felt more pressure as he shifted his body. Darcy risked a glance over her shoulder to see that he was straddling her thighs. When he leaned over her to brace his left hand on the dock so he could continue using his right to rub the lotion in, she jerked her head forward and buried her face into the cushion.

“Still okay?” he asked, his voice close to her ear.

“Yep. Very okay.”

What had started as a friend rubbing sunscreen on her back had turned into one of the more erotic massages of her life. Granted, she hadn’t experienced many massages and this one wasn’t supposed to be erotic. It was just the idea of Bucky kneeling over her thighs as he worked her back with his strong hand, digging his thumb into the tight muscles, kinda made even the most innocent of gestures seem erotic.

“You gonna read for me?” he asked.

“Not until you’re done doing what you’re doing since my brain doesn’t wanna work while you’re doing it.”

“Did you get the back of your legs?” Was his voice husky? Was he _turned on_? God knew, she was. Her panties were probably soaked.

“Nope,” Darcy said, wondering if he’d actually…

Bucky shifted and a moment later she felt cold sunscreen drop onto the back of her right thigh followed by her left. Oh, he _was_. He was actually going to touch her legs. There was probably some fucking romance novel on the damn Kindle that had a scene where the man’s hand slips just up inside the leg of the woman’s shorts and grazes the crotch of her panties to find that the woman beneath him is turned on like no other. And he’d read them all. What if he was playing out a fantasy? What if…

Darcy pressed her lips together as his flesh hand moved up her thigh from the crook of her knee to the crease where her ass started. Yep, he definitely took some liberty there by bunching up an inch or two of her shorts so the webbing between his thumb and forefinger nestled right up against her ass cheek. “Okay?” he asked again.

“You can assume it’s all just wonderful unless I stop you.”

He finished rubbing the lotion into the backs of her thighs, letting his hand linger right below the curve of her ass when he was done. Darcy had her eyes closed and her face shoved deep into the cushion, half afraid he’d move those fingers down and around to graze the crotch of her cotton panties and half desperate for him to do it.

Bucky was too much of a gentleman, though. After a moment’s hesitation, he cleared his throat and lifted his leg so he could sit down on the dock next to her. She turned her head, pillowing it in her arms, and watched him lie down on his back next to her, keeping his knees bent and settling in for the book.

“Ready?” she whispered.

“Mmm, hmm,” Bucky replied, closing his eyes.

* * *

**[September 10, 2018, 7:05pm]**

“Do you think they’re watching us?” Darcy asked as they got out of the rental car and started down the sidewalk.

Bucky caught up with her and reached to take her hand. It felt natural to lace her fingers with his. “Yes,” he told her, nodding at a car half a block up with tinted windows.

“Well, at least Ross and his goons can rest assured you’re still here while we get dinner,” she told him.

They’d ended up on the couch again that afternoon, his head in her lap for a second day while she’d read to him. After she’d finished the final page of The Lathe of Heaven, she’d reached down and run just the tips of her fingers through his hair on instinct. She hadn’t even thought about what she was doing. The familiarity between them was strange. At times, something like that was second nature and at other times it felt like there was an ocean between them.

She’d asked him about dinner and he’d asked her if he could take her out to dinner. “For real,” he’d said. “Not like the last time when you bought pizza and I ruined everything.”

She’d accepted the offer without a second thought. Of course, she’d go anywhere and do pretty much anything with Bucky. After changing clothes into something more presentable, they’d driven into the nearest town and found an Italian place on the main drag. They parked a block up and held hands as they made their way toward the restaurant.

“I knew they wouldn’t leave us alone completely,” Bucky told her. “But at least they aren’t hanging around outside the cabin.” He let go of her hand and opened the door. Darcy’s breath caught when he pressed the palm of his left hand against the small of her back as he guided her inside. He wasn’t playing; this felt like a real date if you didn’t include the talk about being spied on, of course.

Darcy asked the hostess manning the podium by the door if they could have a corner booth. After they’d sat down, Bucky exhaled a long breath and fiddled with his glass of water, touching the condensation on it with his left hand. It was covered with the glove she’d given him the first time they’d gotten dinner together. He wore a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. She’d bought both pieces of clothing and wondered if he was also wearing a pair of the boxer briefs she’d purchased a couple of months back.

Using it as an opportunity to divert the anxious thoughts he was no doubt having, Darcy leaned over and whispered. “So, are we going to talk about how you were totally wrong and I was totally right?”

“About?” he asked, eyes wide.

“Boxer briefs.”

He made a little noise of amusement and looked down at the table. “Maybe I’m just wearing them because I know you like ‘em.”

If only, she thought. Instead of saying that, she decided on, “Unlikely since I never get to see them.”

“You saw them last night.”

They both froze, the words lying awkwardly on the table between them. The unspoken agreement had been that they weren’t going to talk about last night directly. “I did,” she acknowledged.

He turned his glass of water in circles for several seconds before saying, “I’m sorry if I was out of line.”

“Uhh, out of line?” She clenched her hands together in her lap. “You mean when we… uh...?”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, eyes scanning the room. For a moment there, she’d forgotten they were in public and might be overhead.

“You weren’t out of line. I thought maybe I was,” Darcy said.

He huffed out a sharp breath of laughter. “No. You weren’t. At all.” This time he looked up to meet her gaze with his.

“Okay. That’s… good to know. For, like, future reference.”

His brows raised. “Yeah?”

“Umm, yep.” What the fuck were they talking about? Had they just agreed they’d both wanted the kiss and planned to do it again? He looked hopeful. All she could think of was the way he’d held her against his body and the tentative way he’d used his tongue to explore her mouth for the brief, glorious moment they’d kissed.

“Can I take your orders?”

Darcy jumped at the intrusion of the waiter. She hadn’t even looked at the menu, but quickly glanced down and ordered the first thing she saw that sounded decent. Bucky ordered the same, probably because he hadn’t looked at the menu either.

When they were alone again, she looked over and said, “Are you okay?”

He gave her a warm smile and said, “Yeah, I am, actually. Thanks to you.”

“I was worried you’d hate this trip and that you’d think it was a waste of time because you have bigger concerns than just—”

“Darcy,” he said, interrupting. “I love it. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

* * *

**[September 10, 2018, 8:32pm]**

It was dark when they left the restaurant, and Darcy was feeling silly. It was the good kind of silly, though. The kind of silly that two glasses of wine in quick succession gives you. It would be short-lived because the food she’d eaten had already started dampening the buzz. That buzz had made her brave enough to take Bucky’s hand and lean into his body as they walked back to the rental car.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said, looking up at him as they neared the car.

He ducked his head and said, “It’s nothing. Really, you deserve more than dinner, but… I can’t seem to find a place that sells trophies for the Best Person in the World.”

Darcy giggled and laid her head on his shoulder when they stopped at the car. “I don’t know about that. Maybe I could get Best Lasagna Maker or Can Eat the Most Ice Cream in Twenty Minutes.”

He shifted and maneuvered her so her back was against the side of their rental. “Actually, you could get the award for Fastest Salad Eater.”

Darcy laughed out loud at his shit-eating grin when he’d said it. “Oh god, that’s so true. No one can eat a salad faster than me.”

“Oh, I know,” Bucky said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve tried to keep up. It’s the strangest thing. You eat everything else slower than me, but I can’t compete when it comes to salads.”

“I’m passionate about lettuce. Romaine all the way. Except for earlier this year when they had the Great Romaine Scare of ‘18.”

“Doll.” Bucky chuckled as he pinched the end of a strand of her hair and tugged gently. He was so close, almost surrounding her as she leaned back against the SUV. She had put on a cute navy blue summer dress even if the temperature had dropped into the low-70s by the time they left for dinner. It had cap sleeves and an A-line skirt that swished around her knees. It was one of the only nice dresses she had, but she rarely had an occasion to wear it. If dinner with Bucky wasn’t a reason, she didn’t know what would be.

“You look nice tonight,” she whispered, focusing her gaze on his chest instead of his face. It was easier to say stuff like that when she didn’t have to see his expressive eyes. He had on a pair of faded jeans and a long-sleeve button-up burgundy shirt she’d bought him but had never seen him wear. His hair pulled into a bun at the base of his skull completed the look.

“So, do you,” he murmured, leaning in just a bit more. “I had dinner with the prettiest girl in the place.”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she just _knew_ he could hear it and how much he affected her. If the rapid heartbeat wasn’t enough, the blush creeping over her cheeks would have given her away, too. “It looked like a slow night in there. Not a lot of competition. Slim pickings, you know.”

“Sweetheart, you’d still be the prettiest even if the place had been filled with women.”

It was an act. It had to be an act. They were probably being watched. No, they were _definitely_ being watched and he was maintaining their cover while she was acting like some stupid girl on her first date. Because she’d forgotten about the fake marriage and the deception.

She reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt, gently tugging until he took half a step closer. “Thanks for dinner, babe,” she murmured. “We haven’t had a date night in forever.”

He faltered for just a moment. The flash of confusion in his eyes was probably only visible to her before he covered it. But for that brief moment, it had seemed like he hadn’t been pretending or playing it up for the audience. Had he fallen into the trap of how _real_ it felt, too?

“Ready to go?” she asked.

Bucky closed the distance between them and wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She looked up in time to see him dipping his head down for a kiss. Darcy let her eyelids flutter closed as he started out slow with a gentle press of his lips to hers. By the time he’d opened his mouth and traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, Darcy was clutching at his shirt, weak-kneed and panting. His right hand cradled her jaw, warm and careful, almost lovingly. It was enough to take her breath away.

When he pulled back, she reluctantly let go of his shirt and exhaled a shuddering breath of air. “Uh, wow. What was that for?”

“For being you,” he replied. “Get in and let me take you home.”

Where was the line? Where did the act begin and reality end? It felt like there was some sort of strange overlap, some gray area that they’d found themselves occupying. Darcy was afraid if she stayed there for too long, she’d end up with a shattered heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more mission?


	24. Chapter 24

> _”There’s something about the look in your eyes. Something I noticed when the light was just right. It reminded me twice that I was alive and it reminded me that you’re so worth the fight.” - Incubus (Echo)_

**[September 10, 2018, 9:08pm]**

“I can’t believe it’s almost fall,” Darcy said as she walked up the stone path ahead of him. The lights inside the cabin cast a warm glow on the walkway. She’d been quiet in the car on the way back from dinner.

To be fair, so had he, but she was usually the more talkative one by far. Bucky wondered if she regretted kissing him. He knew she was attracted to him by the response of her body when he got near and the way she’d melted against him when he’d wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted to be in a real relationship with him. It didn’t mean this could ever work out. The rush he’d gotten when he’d held her body to his and felt her soften and cling to him was heady, though. It gave him a wild rush of adrenaline that scattered his thoughts into different directions, all of them involving her. Most of those directions included both of them without clothes on and all the others were about how far he’d go to protect her and make sure no one—Ross or HYDRA—ever came close to touching so much as a hair on her head.

“We should leave the windows open tonight,” Darcy told him, looking over her shoulder before she unlocked the door and let herself in. He followed her up the four steps to the door and shut it behind them.

The idea of leaving the windows open made him bristle. It was a security risk. Then again, how was a glass window going to stop anyone from getting access, especially someone who would be after him? “Sure,” he told her after only a moment’s consideration.

Bucky wanted to reach out and grab her, kiss her, pull the zipper down on the back of her dress, put his hands all over her body as they stumbled into the bedroom. If he started down that path, would she follow him? Would she regret it? Would _he_ regret it when this blissful year of marriage was over and they went through the motions of a divorce? Maybe there wouldn’t have to be a divorce, he thought. Maybe… Maybe what started out as a ruse could morph into something real. It was a ridiculous thought. His life was… damaged. It would never be suitable to share with someone, especially someone like her. She wasn’t in the game; she didn’t go out there and kill. She was kind and caring, and he felt like a monster next to her sometimes.

She stepped out of her shoes and left them by the door before making her way to the kitchen. Bucky untied his boots and put them beside her shoes, lining them all up beside the door. By the time he was finished, she was pulling a carton of ice cream out of the freezer. “You want some? I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she told him, holding up the container of chocolate peanut butter ice cream.

What he really wanted was to figure out how to kiss her again, but she wasn’t talking about it and he didn’t know how to bring it up. How did you ask a woman you’d lived with for two months and shared two amazing kisses with if you could kiss her again? Or maybe if you could take her to bed and rediscover what it felt like to…

“I’m a savage, so I’m eating out of the carton,” Darcy said, interrupting his thoughts. She stuck two spoons into the ice cream and used her arms to boost herself up onto the counter. There was just enough room for him to sit beside her, the ice cream between them.

He walked over and shoved down the urge to step between her knees and pull her ass to the edge of the counter so he could grind into the cradle between her thighs while he scattered kisses over her lips and chin and neck. These kinds of thoughts hadn’t occupied his brain until recently. Until _her_, he reminded himself. Maybe the marriage had activated his subconscious and tricked him into desiring something he hadn’t even thought of since nineteen-forty-five.

Bucky pushed himself up and sat down on the counter beside her before pulling his spoon out of the ice cream. She’d already taken a scoop and was licking her spoon. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

“You seem… off.”

Because all I can think about is kissing you and touching you, he wanted to say. All he could think about was how much he wished this was _real_. Other than his mother, he’d never told a woman he loved her and that feeling in the pit of his stomach made him want to tell Darcy he felt that way about her. It was crazy, though. They’d known each other for two months under very strange circumstances. He couldn’t be in _love_ with her. He’d do anything for her, though.

“Just have a lot on my mind. You heard anything about HYDRA?” he asked, diverting the conversation to something more comfortable than how much he cared for her.

Bucky put a spoonful of the sweet, flavorful ice cream in his mouth when she said, “Nothing. I think Steve and Tony and company are still following up on leads.”

“Are they working with Ross?”

“Uh, I think so? Last I heard, they were getting orders from the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

“Why not Ross?”

Darcy raised her brows. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s Secretary of State, so… he’s not really part of the military operations.”

“But he has a team from multiple intelligence agencies working for him,” Bucky said, feeling the twist in his gut. Something didn’t _feel_ right, but he couldn’t put his finger on the problem. Ross was a politician; he wasn’t a good guy and he wasn’t above giving orders that would end lives if he felt it was in his best interest, but he wouldn’t jeopardize the safety and security of the country or the world. He had to live, too. He couldn’t be HYDRA because he’d already thrown off their operations by sending Bucky out to various locations. His orders had been to stop production of the Iron Man suits. And yet, something seemed off. Why not use the others?

Darcy shrugged. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe they are working with him. I’m not exactly in that loop, you know. I’m more the loop that involves reporters asking what Steve’s favorite television show from this century is and what shampoo Nat uses and can they get Sam on a dating show later this year on the CW.”

“Did Wilson agree to that?”

“God, no,” Darcy said, taking another bite of ice cream. “Steve keeps bringing it up, though. Sam might kill him. Oooh, maybe I should tell them Steve would do the dating show.”

“Yes, please. That would be… amazing,” Bucky said, chuckling.

Darcy laughed. “He’d have me fired, probably. But I should tell him I offered him up for the dating show sacrifice just to see his face turn red.”

“Only if I can watch,” Bucky told her, digging into the ice cream.

* * *

**[September 11, 2018, 1:19am]**

He couldn’t sleep. All he could think about was her and how she was lying there next to him, so close their shoulders would touch if she rolled over onto her back. Right now, though, she was on her side, facing away from him. Her shoulder lifted slightly with each breath and her hair was dark against the white pillowcase.

The desire to touch her was like a throbbing, aching pulse in his body. Bucky flipped back and forth between thinking she’d invite that kind of attention and thinking she might be taken aback by his attempt. She’d probably go along with it like she’d enthusiastically gone along with the kiss in the lake and the one after dinner. And she’d probably regret it when this odd friendship they’d managed to develop turned into a powderkeg of a relationship that would eventually explode and hurt them both. She’d survive, but he didn’t know if he could walk away and live with himself after he’d broken her heart. His life meant he couldn’t give her what she deserved. It would just be more of the same—more worries and missions and death and putting her life on hold because she was with a difficult man who had an even more difficult past.

He really needed to talk to the therapist Sam had recommended. The session he’d gone to hadn’t been as terrible as he’d imagined. Maybe the man could help him figure out how to cut his feelings for Darcy out of the equation so he didn’t fuck up the rest of her life because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about being in love with her. Maybe when they got back to the city, he could call the man and schedule something.

Fuck, he wanted to touch her and pull her back against his body. They’d slept like that before a few times, mostly when his nightmares were especially bad. There wasn’t a reason to curl his body around hers now, though. Those two kisses changed things. Even if neither of them could find a way to talk about the kisses, the axis of their relationship had shifted and couldn’t be taken back.

She was getting paid to be here with him, and he was a fucking creep to even think about taking off her clothes and putting his mouth anywhere near her. He shouldn’t be in the same bed as her. He shouldn’t think about the way she’d looked in her wet underwear when he’d pulled her out of the lake or the way he wanted to drop to his knees and pull her panties down so he could taste her. He shouldn’t think about all those fucking romance novels she’d read and how often he’d jerked off in the shower to thoughts of them reenacting some of those scenes. His cock stirred to life when he closed his eyes and remembered the way she’d kissed him back in the lake, the way her bare leg hooked over his hip, the way her ass filled his hand.

Bucky slipped his right hand under the sheet and pressed his erection down. She was right beside him, and he didn’t want her to know the effect she had on him. Even if she wanted him half as much as he wanted her, there was just disaster down that path. There was her breath on his chin and her hands fisted in his shirt and her legs wrapped around his waist while he pushed her up against a wall and reached out to…

He fumbled to slide his hand beneath the waistband of the boxers he’d worn to bed after they’d finished talking over ice cream. His cock was rock hard by now, and all he could think about at the moment was what her hand would feel like wrapped around it instead of his. “Fuck.” It was barely a whisper, almost lost within his sharp exhale. Bucky squeezed himself before sliding his fist up and down a couple of times, keeping an eye on Darcy’s sleeping form. He was ashamed of his behavior, but his erection wasn’t going anywhere while he was sharing a bed with her.

Stroking himself, Bucky imagined her hands and mouth on him and how good it would feel. He’d come all over himself if she so much as wrapped one of her delicate hands around his cock. He’d probably die if she let him between her legs. It had been so long.

He should stop, but he didn’t want to. Bucky clenched his teeth together and prepared to slip out of bed so he could finish in the bathroom with his left hand braced on the wall over the toilet like he’d done last night. Just when he shifted to throw his legs out of the bed, his phone started buzzing across the nightstand. Darcy rolled into her back when he grabbed for the phone. Before he could even touch the screen to see what was making it alert him, her phone went off, a little ding sound followed by two more.

By then, she was awake and sitting up. “What’s going on?” she asked him, pushing her hair back from her face.

Bucky’s stomach dropped into the floor when he read the message on his screen.

**Ross: Transport in route. Meet them at the end of the driveway at 1:45. Stark Tower was attacked. We have credible intel that needs to be acted on.**

“Bucky?”

He looked over at Darcy. Her eyes were wide.

“Bucky, what is it?”

He felt sick. “They hit Stark Tower. I’ve got to go.”

She shifted onto her knees, and he looked away from the way her nightshirt hit her just above mid-thigh. That wasn’t for him; _she_ wasn’t for him. His life was guns and fists and blood and death. His life was riding in the belly of a helicopter or a jet while he prepared himself for people who wanted him gone or who wanted to twist him to their own ends.

“What?” Darcy’s voice was shrill. “What do you mean, they hit Stark Tower?”

“HYDRA. I don’t have details. I’ve got ten minutes to get out to the road for pickup.” His erection was well and truly gone now. Enough of this strange little honeymoon dream. Real life was pulling him back in.

She had her phone in her hand and was scrolling through something. “What the… They blew off the side of the building and took out that massive sign on top.” Her brows furrowed as she continued reading. “Oh my, god… They… Tony and Steve and everyone was there.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to say, “_What_?”

“No, no, no,” she hurried to reply. “They’re okay, I think. I hope. They were supposed to be somewhere else, but they went back to New York early. HYDRA would have… God, HYDRA would have taken the building down if they hadn’t stopped them.”

Bucky pulled up Steve’s number and called him. Steve answered on the third ring. “Bucky?”

“What happened?” he barked into the phone.

“Eight of them got into the city with their suits. They didn’t fly here or we’d have caught them as they entered our airspace, so they must have taken off from somewhere nearby and kept low. We were at the facility upstate when I got the call. Tony took off and almost got himself killed before we could get here to back him up. He’s out of commission for the time being.”

“Where are they now?”

“Gone. Dead. Well, two of ‘em are dead. Their suits are busted up. Tony’s trying to reverse engineer them from a hospital bed already.”

“The building?”

“That’s busted up, too. The police are clearing the area. We weren’t supposed to be back here, Buck. I just… I felt like we were getting the run-around, you know? So, we came back early.”

Bucky’s stood up and used his shoulder to smash the phone to his ear as he pulled pants from his bag. “And they were HYDRA? The two that were killed?”

Steve sighed. “Yeah. They had tattoos on their backs. Nat just ran their photos through a database and we’ve confirmed it. Ivan Petrovich and Malcolm Ferguson. They’re known operatives for HYDRA. We had their profiles in the info that was leaked back when, uh, the disaster in D.C. happened.”

“Back when I tried to kill you?” Bucky asked, his voice gruff.

Steve sighed. “It wasn’t you, Buck. But, yeah, back then. They’re definitely HYDRA.”

“Is the situation there under control?”

“Yeah. Where are you ?”

“Michigan.”

“What?” Steve asked.

Bucky pulled on the pants. “Darcy decided we needed a vacation so she rented a place in Michigan.”

“Are you telling me the truth?” Steve asked, voice suspicious. “You ain’t running off to do something stupid, are you?”

“You don’t believe me, ask her to confirm,” he told Steve before sitting down on the edge of the bed and handing the phone to Darcy. While she confirmed that they were in Michigan in a cabin, Bucky shoved his feet into a pair of socks and pulled a shirt on. Just before she told Steve that Bucky was getting dressed to leave, he snatched the phone out of her hand. “I’m fine, punk.”

“Stay where you are,” Steve said. “I don’t know what HYDRA wants and you can’t help here right now. They lost two of their men so they’re licking their wounds. We just need to find out where they are or how to shut these suits down before they resurface.”

“Fine,” Bucky snapped. “Don’t do anything stupid, punk.”

Darcy stood up and said, “Why don’t you ask him if—” Bucky hung up before Steve could hear what she was about to say. “—if he knows about your mission or if he could help?”

“He don’t know about it and he can’t help,” Bucky told her, digging in his bag again. He pulled out a forty-five caliber pistol and extended the grip of it to her. Her hair was still messy from sleep and her eyes were wide. “Stay here, take this and shoot anyone who tries to get in here unless it’s Steve or me or Sam or Nat. Got it?”

She looked down at the gun in his hand. “What? No.”

“Yes,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand so he could place the gun in it. “Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes, but I—”

“Don’t leave with anyone but me or Steve. Don’t trust Ross or anyone he sends here to protect you. You got it?”

“What are you talking about?” Darcy’s voice was almost panicked.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. Just… Just stay here, lock the doors, don’t let anyone in here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

He could hear a helicopter approaching, but it was still a distance away. When she wouldn’t wrap her hand around the gun, he put it on the bed and took her shoulders in his hands. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with anxiety and fear. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I have to, sweetheart.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “Where are they sending you? Is Steve going with you?”

“They have intel on a possible location. I don’t know where. Don’t call anyone unless you’re in danger and then you can call Steve.”

“Why didn’t you tell him where you’re going?”

“I don’t know where I’m going. Darcy, I’ve gotta go. They’re almost here.”

She had tears in her eyes when she said, “Please be careful. Please don’t die.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Bucky said, “I’ll be careful, doll. I promise.”

Before he realized what she was doing, Darcy went up on her tip-toes and leaned into him. She moved her right hand to grip the back of his neck so she could press a hard kiss to his lips. Bucky felt his willpower cave in as he kissed her back and wrapped his arms around her. When they broke the kiss off to breathe, he pressed his forehead to hers, looking down into those beautiful blue eyes.

“Please, please, please be careful, Bucky.”

“I’m gonna do everything I can to come back to you, sweetheart. I promise you that.”

She gave him a little nod of acknowledgment even though she had tears rolling down her cheeks. The whomps of the helicopter’s blades were closer. They would be on the ground out by the road in less than a minute.

“I gotta go,” he whispered. “Remember what I said.”

“Okay,” she said, letting him go with what felt like reluctance. He didn’t want to go, but if he didn’t, her life would be in even more jeopardy. Steve didn’t have any leads on HYDRA and something was up with Ross. Bucky needed to let that play out or they might never know who was pulling the strings and how HYDRA could be stopped.

He stepped back and turned before he could see the look in her eyes.

* * *

**[September 11, 2018, 11:02pm]**

Most of the team he’d been with during the last mission was dead. He’d not been told this, but he could read between the lines when Ross had contacted him via satellite phone to relay the mission objectives personally. Ross had told him they’d attempted to access and search the warehouse just hours before the attack on Stark Tower, but the mission had failed spectacularly. The surviving men managed to set up a perimeter around the building on the outskirts of Chengdu in China. No one had come or gone from the facility, so it was clearly not where HYDRA was training with the suits, but it was definitely an active base of theirs if the American team had been cut in half by the men inside. Ross had said he had made arrangements with the Joint Chiefs of Staff to send another group of men to Chengdu, including Bucky. While the men were being called in, HYDRA had struck out, badly damaging Stark Tower. Bucky suspected they had intended to destroy the building and the surrounding blocks, but Steve’s gut decision to return to the States early and Tony’s rush to confront them interrupted HYDRA’s plans.

Bucky was running this mission, according to Ross. He was sure Ross had more than one man on the team who would report back. He was also sure the men had been told to follow the orders of a man named Talbot if Bucky went off-script. Talbot was clearly the person in charge when Bucky had boarded the jet with the others. He bristled at Bucky being handed the proverbial keys to the team, but he hadn’t said anything.

Now, Talbot, Bucky, and five other men were inside the brick building, taking cover behind a thick concrete wall. There were at least three hostiles on the other side, maybe four. No, he thought, at least nine now that a door opened and he could hear the boots of several more when they entered. Bucky held up a hand to stop Talbot from directing two of the men around the corner. They probably hadn’t heard the reinforcements.

They couldn’t delay much longer. Bucky closed his eyes and listened. It took a full minute for him to map out their placement in the room. Two men about five yards into the room just in front of the door, three men on the right, at least one—maybe two—on a catwalk above, four milling around to the left, maybe three if they were lucky. Bucky held up his head, two fingers extended and pointed at the door. He followed it with three fingers before pointing to the right, four to the left, and two with his index finger then pointing at the ceiling. The men were seasoned and had seen combat before. They knew how to handle themselves. Bucky was confident they could take out HYDRA’s men even without the knowledge he’d given them, but now maybe they could do it without losing any of their team.

Bucky lifted his chin and moved, keeping his body low. Gunshots from outside could be heard through the high windows of the warehouse, but it wasn’t a concern. The men they’d left at the perimeter had been told to distract the operatives here. Bucky and his team had managed to eliminate eighteen other men in other areas of the building. These men seemed alert, but unaware of the fate of the rest of their group. Bucky and his team had done so without firing a gun, but they’d been able to do it two or three at a time. That wasn’t an option if they were outnumbered.

He brought his rifle around and leveled it in front of him. Two men fell into step just behind him and the rest of the team followed. The two men by the door didn’t see what hit them, Bucky shot one and Talbot shot the other. Bucky flipped his rifle up and caught one of the men on the catwalk with a bullet to the chest. He fell, flipping head over heels. A second man followed after Bucky shot him in the stomach and then head. It had been close since that gunman had managed to fire a shot that embedded itself in the wall just over Bucky’s head. With those four gone, the others were quickly dealt with. Three of his team took up position by the door while the others swept the room, making sure the HYDRA soldiers were dead. Bucky found himself standing over the table to the right. Schematics in the form of a hologram were in blue and red shimmering light, suspended above the wooden tabletop. A metal case sat on a chair that had been pulled out. Gingerly, he flipped the clasps up and opened the lid. A blue, glowing disk was nestled in a dip in the black velvet lining.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered, staring down at the active power supply that would run a suit.

He looked up and saw Talbot and two other men looking through a doorway that led further into the warehouse. They’d taken out the last of the HYDRA team. The drone that had been sent up before he’d even arrived had detected twenty-nine heat signatures and they had twenty-nine bodies. Bucky knew how to count kills. He’d been doing so for more years than not. The way Talbot and the men were conversing in the doorway didn’t feel quite right, though. They hadn’t found anyone, but they’d probably found something. Maybe something like what Bucky had found.

“Boss!” a man called out. Bucky turned to find one of his men standing a few years away. He wasn’t calling out to Bucky, though. He was calling out to Talbot right before his eyes shifted back to the power source in the case. Bucky felt the hair on the back of his neck lift as the pieces started coming together. They’d used him to get in when they couldn’t get in on their own. If they had a working power source, then…

Talbot stepped closer, craning his neck to get a glimpse in the case. Bucky reached out to close it, but he’d been too late. “Do it,” Talbot told the man behind Bucky.

On instinct, Bucky dropped to his knees, the bullet missing his head by mere centimeters. He kicked a leg out behind him, buckling the man’s knee so they were both on the floor. The knife strapped to his leg had already killed six men today and he used it on a seventh, slitting his own team member’s throat. Bucky would have been sick to his stomach over the ruthless action, but he was in a delicate situation with six other men who had probably been instructed to kill him. Two bullets blasted into the wooden table, sending splinters flying into the air. There was yelling, but he focused on the heavy boots on the ground as he rolled under the table. As he cleared it on the other side, he flicked the knife, blade over handle, through the air and watched it embed into the chest of a man named Cross who had been coming for him.

More bullets flew, and Bucky barely managed to deflect them with his arm. If he got out of this mess, he’d have to thank Shuri again for such an amazing cybernetic wonder. It was like the vibranium absorbed most of the impact of the bullets so the rifle shots didn’t knock him off balance. He returned fire, hitting two men—one in the chest and the other in the head. His brain did the math without him even having to try. Four down, two more.

Concrete blasted off the floor to his left, and Bucky rolled away, pushing himself to his feet just in time to flee a trail of bullets from a semi-automatic rifle fired by Talbot. As the man reloaded, Bucky tackled him, only to be pulled off by the final member of the elite ops team. A knife glanced off his left arm before slicing through the vest and into his skin just under his collar bone. Bucky grabbed the man’s hand and squeezed, breaking the delicate bones in his fingers and taking the knife so he could shove it up under the man’s jaw.

Talbot was back on his feet with a loaded rifle now. He didn’t say a word before he started shooting again. Bucky jumped to the right, deflecting two more bullets with his hand and wrist.

“Just fucking die!” Talbot screamed, releasing another succession of shots in Bucky’s direction. One found a home in Bucky’s thigh, slicing through the muscle without embedding itself into his body. It still felt like fire, though. Bucky shot back, his bullet hitting Talbot in the stomach. The other man was able to get two more rounds off before he clutched his stomach and let the tip of his rifle dip down.

Bucky reached to pull a second knife from the holster strapped to his leg. “What were your orders?” he demanded, kicking the rifle out of Talbot’s hand before scanning the room.

“Fuck you,” Talbot said through clenched teeth as he fell to his knees.

“Were you going to kill me either way or only if we found something?”

“What does it matter?” the man asked, blood dripping on the floor in front of him.

Bucky stepped closer. “Are you HYDRA?”

“Fuck no!” Talbot’s voice was still strong. “I’m a Marine. I ain’t some fuckin’ terrorist.”

“You tried to kill me on Ross’ orders, then?” His mind felt so cold and so clear. Bucky could see how these pieces fit together now. It might have taken him a little longer than it should have, but he wasn’t an idiot. “Let me guess. You were told that if a viable power source was found, then you should eliminate me. Does Ross want these for himself? Who does he work for? How deep does this go?”

Talbot coughed up blood and it splattered over the concrete floor. “Yeah, we were told to take you out if we found the power source.” Another cough before he added, “You’re no better than HYDRA, throwing your fuckin’ weight around. You and your buddies stepping outside the law, outside orders.”

“So, the government wants the suits to keep the Avengers in their place, then? They want them for control? Just like _HYDRA_.” Bucky spat out the last word and shook his head.

“Fuck you,” Talbot replied, lunging for Bucky’s knife. It was a feeble, last-ditch attempt at saving himself. Bucky brought his knee up into Talbot’s jaw and dropped the knife so he could snap the man’s neck.

Once he was alone, Bucky looked over the carnage of the room and felt his breathing becoming shallow, felt his body sway, felt his eyes blur. The palm of his right hand itched, and his head was buzzing. This had happened before. He’d actually told Sam’s therapist about it during their one and only session. The doctor had assured him it wasn’t a result of the experimentation that had been done on him. It was anxiety or possibly even a panic attack, plain and simple.

Dropping to his knees, he tried to count his breaths. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight. Four, seven, eight. His hand was shaking. The left was as steady as ever, but the right one had blood on it and it was trembling. He shoved it between his thighs to stop the shaking, only to remember that his leg was hurt from the way the bullet had grazed it. Pain was easier to focus on than anxiety and what he’d just done. He’d killed _so many_ today. Sixteen lives he’d taken today. _Sixteen_. How could he go back to Darcy and tell her that? How could he even think of touching her with murderous hands  
Bucky closed his eyes and thought of the way her body had felt against his in the lake when she’d clung to him while they’d kissed. He thought of the way she’d looked at him across the dinner table the previous evening. He thought of the sound of her voice as she’d begged him to be careful and to come back to her.

He remained kneeling there on the concrete for a minute, maybe more. When he stood, he walked over to the door that Talbot had been at. There was a small room that had been converted into a laboratory. It was destroyed, likely by HYDRA when they realized their operation had been compromised, but casings for the power source discs littered the floor. These had never been used, but this was obviously the place they had been manufacturing them.

There were gunshots outside. He had seven men out there waiting for him. Bucky didn’t know if they were hostile or how they’d react to what had transpired inside the warehouse. If he ran, they’d grab Darcy. He had no way to contact Steve to ask for help. To get to Steve or Darcy, he needed to go through Ross and his team without anyone suspecting that he knew what the game was.

Bucky pulled Shuri’s scanning device out of his pocket and used it to scan the viable power source in the case, allowing the device to save its signature. Then he pulled the chip that held the holographic schematics and tucked it away in his pocket. He wanted to get the power source to someone who could understand it, but there was no way Ross or his men were going to let him take it home with him. They’d probably miss the data chip and wouldn’t question Shuri’s device since Bucky had taken it with him on all the missions, but they’d search him and find the power source. Leaving it in their hands could be disastrous.

He did the only thing he could do; he laid it on the table and brought his left hand down on it. The force of his blow and the rush of energy from the disc broke the already battered table into three pieces and knocked him back against the wall. He placed the broken device back into the metal case and latched the case closed. Then, he walked into the lab and turned on the two gas valves he could find. He’d set the place on fire and join the team outside, the sole survivor of the blast that happened shortly after he’d exited the room. Bucky could only hope the Chinese government would secure the site and begin their own investigation before Ross could get any of his men there to confirm Bucky’s story.

* * *

**[September 12, 2018, 1:02am]**

“I just don’t understand how the fuck the one thing we need gets destroyed in a fight,” Ross said, pounding his fist down on the conference table.

Bucky hadn’t slept since he’d left Darcy and the changing time zones made him feel like he’d lost an entire day. It had been dark when he left and now here he was back and it was still dark. Darcy had been on her own for twenty-four hours and all he wanted to do was make sure Ross hadn’t tried to hurt her. He had no desire to sit in a dimly-lit conference room in some office building without a name on the front, listening to Ross bitch about the mission. The man was a fucking snake who’d ordered Bucky dead, but Bucky didn’t know if Ross was the cancer or if he was just the tip of the iceberg, so he couldn’t just strangle the man like he wanted to.

When Bucky didn’t respond, Ross sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. _Fine_. We’ll see what we can pull from the damaged power source. Fuck!”

“Sir,” a man said, interrupting them from the cracked door. “The Chinese government has secured the location. We can’t get our team out there. We’re working on our contacts there to get information on the blast, but…”

“But we don’t have anyone in Chengdu. I know,” Ross said, sounding weary and annoyed. “Get out.”

The man nodded and closed the door.

“I’d like to return to my honeymoon,” Bucky said.

Ross looked up with an annoyed expression on his face. “We’re having an international incident and all you can think about is pussy?”

Bucky stood up suddenly and took pleasure in seeing Ross flinch as he rolled his chair back from the table in anticipation of possible violence. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that,” he told Ross in a frosty voice. “Ever.”

“If I need you again, then…”

“Then you come get me. You know where I’m at for the next four days, and you know where I’ll be after.”

Ross hesitated for just a moment before picking up the phone and ordering a car and a jet to return Bucky to Michigan. Bucky couldn’t breathe easy until he could see Darcy with his own eyes and make sure she was unharmed. After that, he had no idea what to do or who to tell. There were too many agendas and none of them had his or Darcy’s best interest at heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Tomorrow he'll be back in bed with Darcy. Promise.


	25. Chapter 25

> _”Dress it up with the trappings of love. I’ll be captivated, I’ll hand from your lips instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above.” - Edwin McCain (I’ll Be)_

**[September 12, 2018, 5:34am]**

She’d been up almost all night, the gun within reach. When she thought the worst of it was over and she could fall asleep, Darcy heard the sound of helicopter landing close to the cabin. She peeked out the windows, but couldn’t make out anything under the deep blue sky. The trees prevented her from seeing the road. Darcy’s heart was in her throat as she waited by the window with the lights out so anyone approaching the house couldn’t see her watching. The gun was in her right hand, but she was going to be a terrible shot if someone came through the door because she was trembling.

One figure came up the driveway, no gear or bags. No gun. When he got closer, she thought she recognized the gait and the silhouette. Darcy ran to the door and flipped the switch for the porch light before looking out the little window next to the door. Bucky stood on the first step, holding his hand up to block the bright light she’d just turned on. Elated to see him alive and able to walk, she fumbled with the locks and urgently pulled the door open. She would have ripped it off its hinges had she been a bit stronger.

“Bucky.” She exhaled his name and threw her arms around his neck.

He stumbled back half a step but wrapped his arms around her all the same. “Hey, sweetheart. I’m so fuckin’ glad to see you.” When she pulled back to look at his face, he lifted a hand to cup her cheek. “You okay?”

Darcy stepped back and lightly punched him in the right shoulder. “I should be asking _you_ that question. Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. Just a spot on my leg that’s healing. You’re still stuck with me.” Bucky lifted his chin up to indicate the doorway behind her. “Can we go inside?”

Flustered and riding high on the overwhelming relief of having him back again, Darcy had blocked him from entering. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m just…” She stepped inside so he could follow her. “I’m so happy you’re back. I was so worried about you.”

He locked the door and leaned back against it. It wasn’t until then that she realized how exhausted he looked and how disheveled his clothes were. Was that _blood_ on his pants and sleeve?

“Bucky… is that…?”

He looked down. “Oh. Yeah. Blood.” Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the door. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I… didn’t clean up before… I wanted to get back to you and I—”

“Hey,” she interrupted. “It’s fine. I just… is it your blood?”

“Some of it.” He wouldn’t look at her.

“Do you need a doctor?”

That made him level his gaze on her. “No.”

“You want a shower?” she asked.

Bucky exhaled a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Go get a shower. You want food?”

“No.”

“You want to sleep?”

He hung his head. “I don’t know what I want, Darcy.”

Her heart ached for him. She wanted to punch Ross in the face for making him go on these missions and do it without Steve or Sam, who he knew and trusted. Something about it just didn’t sit right with her, but she didn’t want to break Bucky’s trust by saying anything. And what if telling Steve resulted in Bucky getting hurt? She’d never be able to live with the guilt. “Start with the shower,” she told him.

When he walked past her, he gently placed his left hand on the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss on her forehead. For a moment there, Darcy had thought he was going to give her a kiss on the lips. For a moment there, she was rejoicing and making plans to join him in the shower. The sweet brush of his warm lips on her forehead still made her toes curl, but a kiss on the lips would have been so much better. “Thanks,” he murmured before releasing her and making his way into the bedroom.

She lifted his scanner out of his pocket while he was in the shower and did a thorough scan of the cabin, inside and out on the deck. There wasn’t a single bleep or bloop to be heard. The sky was a dusty blue when he came out of the bathroom in a pair of green boxers. She’d turned the bed down for him and was placing a glass of water on the nightstand when the view of him in the bathroom doorway stole the breath from her lungs.

“Hey,” she said, looking away quickly and walking back to the bedroom door. “I scanned the place to make sure we don’t have any bugs. I got nada. There’s your thing. I got you a glass of water, too. I can make you something to eat or you can just sleep. Or… whatever…”

Bucky walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at her with nervous eyes, filled with worry and weariness. “I ain’t hungry.”

“Okay. Let me know when you—”

“Would you lie down with me for a minute? Just until I fall asleep?” He shifted his eyes to the floor when he asked, like he couldn’t bear to look at her when he did.

She smiled even though he couldn’t see it. “I thought you’d never ask. I’ve been up all night watching for potential bad guys. Are we safe now?”

He looked up at her when she came closer. “Right now, this moment? Yeah. In a few hours? I don’t know.”

“What’s in a few hours?”

He exhaled a humorless breath of what sounded like exasperation. “I don’t know. We’ll see what HYDRA does next and what Ross finds out. Right now I just want to be here with you.”

Instead of pressing him for more of an explanation, Darcy unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied them down her legs, leaving her in a pair of cotton panties and an old T-shirt with Prince on it. Bucky watched her carefully as she walked around the bed to lie down on her side. After she was under the sheet, he laid down beside her.

“Wait,” Darcy said. “You said your leg was hurt. I didn’t see it.”

“It’s fine.”

“No,” she flipped the sheet up to look down at his legs. The sight of him on his back in bed _with her_ wearing just underwear was almost enough to make her pass out. “What—”

“Bullet grazed my thigh,” he said when she saw the angry red scar.

“Wow, I… I did not see that when you came out of the bathroom. My observational skills are for the birds when there is a hot guy involved.”

Bucky chuckled and lowered the sheet over them again. “It’ll be gone in a few hours. I had a cut on my chest, but it’s gone already. Fast healing is a perk.”

“You’re telling me,” she said, rolling onto her side to face him. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to… I don’t want you to think of me that way.”

“What way?”

“The way I am. A killer.”

Darcy shifted closer, focusing on his handsome profile. “Bucky, hey, don’t… Don’t say shit like that. That’s what you do when your back is to the wall or when you’re trying to save people. That’s not who you are. I know that.”

He winced and then rolled over to face away from her. Darcy wanted to make him keep talking, but she couldn’t force him to do what he didn’t want to do. She waited a minute before tentatively placing her palm in the middle of his back. When he didn’t pull away or flinch, she moved her hand up along his spine so she could pinch the base of his neck where his shoulders began. She squeezed and released multiple times as she went up and then down the column of his neck before pinching the muscle in his shoulder.

Bucky’s grunt was so soft she almost didn’t hear it. “Is this okay?” she asked, sweeping her hand down his back again.

“Mmm, hmm,” he said. When he didn’t move, Darcy light ran her hand over his back, from his shoulders all the way down to the elastic waistband of his boxers.

“I need to get you more boxer-briefs,” she whispered.

He chuckled but didn’t reply. Darcy curled her fingers, scratching her nails down the middle of his back and then along each shoulder blade. This finally got him to groan and say, “Damn, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” she whispered, shifting closer and using both hands to scratch his back. Bucky must have liked it because he turned a bit so he was almost lying on his stomach. It gave her more access to do as she pleased. Darcy sat up and shifted over until she was kneeling beside him. She traced patterns over his skin with her fingernails, enjoying the way he shuddered now and then.

“Why are you so nice to me?” The question was muffled by the pillow he’d shoved his face into.

Because I love you, she thought. But she couldn’t say that. That was a sure-fire way to scare off a guy you’re not in a _real_ relationship with, especially one who was pretending to be your husband. “Because you deserve a little niceness in your life and because I like you. But I don’t need a reason to be nice to you, Bucky. I can be nice whenever I feel like it. It just works better if you let me be nice to you.”

He turned his head to the side and said, “That therapist said I need to learn how to accept help.”

“You do,” she agreed.

Bucky sighed. “He said I probably feel like I don’t deserve help.”

“But you do. I know you’ve been trying. You’ve come a long way in two months. I mean, you wouldn’t have agreed to come here with me for a getaway back then.”

Bucky turned over and looked up at her. He was gorgeous with his chest bare and his wet hair spread out on the pillow. His stare was intense, as if he were searching for something in her eyes. She looked down when she felt his hand slide up her arm. “I think I need help,” he whispered. “I need… you.”

“You have me,” Darcy replied without hesitation. “What do you need?”

He closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. When he opened them to look at her again, he said, “Can you lie down with me?”

Maybe he wanted to be held. She’d done that before when he was having a rough night. She’d even held him after missions. She shifted onto her ass and then situated herself next to him. Before she could settle her head into the crook of his shoulder, he turned onto his side to face her. Darcy gave him a little smile when she reached out to tug on a lock of his hair. “Okay?” she whispered.

“Sweetheart, I’m always okay with you.”

“Tell me how I can help you. Cuddling? Food? Talking?”

He swallowed and said, “I need your insight or… your advice. Something is going on with Ross. He’s… I don’t know. I think he’s trying to get one of the suits that HYDRA has or at least the power source to it.”

Darcy frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I think…” He sighed. “I don’t want to tell you this because you’ll worry, but… but you deserve to know.”

“Tell me what?”

“He’s been threatening me to get me to cooperate. It wasn’t… It wasn’t like that initially. I went on that first mission myself, maybe even the second, but… Before we left on this trip, he told me if I didn’t cooperate, then you’d be in danger. He said he had guys stationed outside Stark Tower and our apartment and that they’d _not protect_ you any longer, which basically means they’d try to use you as leverage with me.”

Darcy’s stomach soured. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she asked.

“Doll, I’m so sorry I dragged you into—”

“Fuck that guy,” she snapped. “He’s using a threat against me to make you risk your life against your will? Ugh! That makes me want to smash his head in with a baseball bat or maybe snap his dick off with a mousetrap.”

“A mousetrap?”

“Yeah, his dick’s probably tiny enough. What the fuck, dude? Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I didn’t want to scare you, sweetheart. As long as I go along with things then they won’t—”

Darcy put her fingertips over his mouth to stop him from talking. “No. Don’t go along with this stuff for me. I’ll… I’ll take self-defense classes and pull out my Taser and… and…”

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away. “Darcy, that stuff ain’t going to stop them and you know it. This is my fault and I’m trying to—”

“But it _isn’t_ your fault. Them threatening me isn’t any more your fault than HYDRA messing up your memories and forcing you to go all assassin is your fault.” She twisted her hand to break his grip on her wrist so she could cup his cheek. “What about Ross and the suits?”

“Ross tried to send a group of his guys into this place in the remote central part of China. They lost half the team, which was when he called me in. The attack on Stark Tower looks like retaliation for what Ross did. So, I went in with another team and took out the soldiers they had stationed there. I… found something. A working power supply for one of the units. When my team saw it, they attacked me, tried to kill me.”

“What the fuck?” Darcy muttered as the realization that he’d come close to death settled into her consciousness. For a moment, she restrained herself, afraid he would find her too clingy and maybe a little crazy, but ultimately her desire to feel him against her won out. Shifting closer, she wrapped her arms around him. Bucky did the same to her and in a few seconds, they were a tangled mess of limbs and warm skin, which triggered the area of her brain that thought about Bucky in more lascivious ways than friendly hugs.

He’d rolled her until she was half on her back. The left arm wasn’t the most comfortable thing to lie on, but she didn’t mind when he slid it under her back. “I’m okay,” he whispered in her ear.

“How’d you get back here to me if they tried to kill you?”

“Darcy, I killed them. You know I—”

“Obviously, Bucky. I mean, how the hell did you get back to Michigan from China if you jumped Ross’ little ship.”

“I didn’t jump it. Not yet, at least. I, uh, took the schematics and blueprints I found, scanned the power source before destroying it, and set the place on fire with a natural gas blast before I left with the half of the team the remained outside. They didn’t realize the power source was working when I found it and assumed HYDRA had killed the other men. Ross thinks the same thing.”

Darcy looked up at Bucky, carding her fingers through his soft hair so she could push it back from his face. “You know, it should be illegal for one person to be this smart and this hot.”

He chuckled and dipped his head down to drop a quick kiss on her lips. The peck turned into another peck initiated by her when she fisted a hand in his hair to pull him closer. Something seemed to snap inside him at that moment, resulting in a longer, deeper kiss with his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and one of his legs slipping right between her knees. Darcy could think of nothing better than this sensation of being physically overwhelmed by him. She clutched at him, trying to pull him so close there would be no space between them.

When his very apparent erection rubbed against her thigh, Bucky groaned and shifted his hips to get more friction. She gasped in surprise and desire and pleasure, but he must have taken it in a different way because just as suddenly as he’d jumped on her, he was rolling onto his back, hands fisted at his sides. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m outta line.”

“Uh, no, you’re not. But… Okay…” She tried to shift her brain from what Bucky was packing in his pants to the crisis at hand. “Okay. Let’s focus. Let’s... Okay.” Darcy sat up and turned to look down at him. “For the record, you were _not_ out of line. It takes two to tango and I was so on board with all that action. But, like, we have a crisis and Ross is a problem and… making out with the hottest guy I know shouldn’t be, like, a priority even if he’s my husband.”

Bucky gave her a disbelieving huff of laughter.

“Okay. Focus, focus, focus.” Darcy flipped the sheet over his chest. “Can you cover yourself so I can concentrate on things that don’t involve making out?”

His laugh now was a bit more robust. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Ooooh-kay. So, we need to put the puzzle together. I mean, you’ve done most of the work already, so… Let’s go back to the beginning. Fort Bliss happens and they suspect HYDRA, but the military isn’t capable of fighting that fight and Tony and Rhodey can only do so much with everyone else missing in action because of the tiff you, Steve, and Tony had.”

“Tiff?” he asked.

She widened her eyes. “I’m not trying to make light, but… whatever. Anyway, Ross agrees to drop the charges against Steve and company if they’ll come back and help with a situation that is out of control. He’s a fucking slimeball, so he’s probably thinking he can somehow get hold of the knockoff Iron Man tech that HYDRA is developing in China. And he’s worried about China getting their hands on that kind of weapon. Steve says he wants you in on the deal. Ross says no until… Until…”

Bucky nodded. “Until they think I’m married.”

Darcy bounced on the bed as the pieces of the puzzle started forming a picture. “So, Ross was never worried you’d cut and run even if you weren’t married. He’d have loved to hunt you down and throw you on the Raft. You being married changed his mind because then he’d have leverage over you with someone you cared about. Steve doesn’t count because Steve can punch a hole through pretty much anything. I can’t even open a jar of pickles.”

“And yet you were going to beat Ross’ head in with a baseball bat a few minutes ago,” he said, brows raised.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s easier than opening a jar of pickles. _Anyway_, what if they sent Tafford over to scope us out and see the dynamic? And then Ross starts working on you. He thinks he can use you—pick your brain and use your mad skills—to do some recon and find out where HYDRA is building these suits and how they’re running them. You manage to whittle down the places to China and you got them the bank records with the money trail that led to…”

“Chengdu.”

“Right, Chengdu. And he sends in a team without you, right? He sends them in so he can take anything himself and he’ll still have you dangling on a hook with me as leverage, the fucker. Except, they suck ass without you. And HYDRA has caught up to his game and he’s afraid that they’ll destroy the evidence, plus they’re causing a P.R. nightmare for him with the attack on New York.”

Bucky nodded as he looked up at her. “So he calls me in for the mission and tells my team that if anything is found that can be used, then they should eliminate me.” Darcy could see the wheels in his brain turning as he looked away. “But why not just let me bring it back to him? Why try to kill me? He had to have known it would be a risk. I mean, what would I do with the power source?”

“You’d tell people—Steve, Tony, whoever—who had access to the technology so when shit starts happening, it can’t automatically be blamed on HYDRA.”

He widened his eyes. “You think he’s trying to get this so he can have a weapon for himself?”

“Well, yeah. And whoever is working for him. Look, he’s got a weapon and a scapegoat. He can take out people or businesses or countries who oppose him with the suits and just blame it on HYDRA. Those assholes don’t have a public relations firm to set the record straight. And even if they did, no one will believe them after all that data that got leaked four or five years ago.”

Bucky looked up at her and said, “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck. If he has the suits, then he wouldn’t need the Avengers the way he does now, so that’s another incentive. What a one hundred percent jerkwad. What do we do?” she asked.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Darcy waited, kneeling beside his hip. “I don’t know,” Bucky admitted.

“Okay. We need to be logical. Do we expose Ross?”

“Too risky. He’s got too much power right now. I don’t know how deep it goes. Maybe he’s just the hand, not the brain. Maybe he’s working for someone.”

“Right,” Darcy said, looking up at the ceiling. “We need to keep the Iron Man tech out of his hands so he can’t throw his weight around and blame it on HYDRA. So, how do we do that?”

“Eventually, he’s going to track HYDRA down. They’re on the run right now, even if they have a team of suits that could level a city. If I stop cooperating, then he’ll come after you. That cannot happen, Darcy.”

“He could call you at any time for another mission.”

Bucky nodded. “So, we have to do something fast. Tell Steve, the others? Try to find it before HYDRA before Ross does?” He put his hand over his eyes. “If I tip them off when I get the mission objectives and they don’t find HYDRA’s base where the suits are being kept, then… then…”

“Ross will know you spilled the beans,” she finished for him.

“And you’d be in danger. So, we aren’t going to do that.”

“We need to make the suits a moot point,” Darcy told him as she sat down on her heels, one hand on his stomach to balance herself. She hadn’t even thought about the casual touch being in such an intimate area, especially after he’d almost pinned her on her back while they were kissing just minutes before.

Darcy pulled her hand away, but Bucky reached up and caught it, pulling her forward so she was kneeling further up the bed toward his chest. “I don’t know how to disable the suits,” he admitted, lacing his fingers with hers.

Darcy gasped and leaned down to plant a haphazard kiss on his mouth. She missed and mostly got his cheek. She was too excited to care, though. “You said you have the data, right? The stuff you took from the warehouse?”

“Yeah,” he said, eyes moving from her mouth to her eyes. His lips were wet and the sheet had slipped down to reveal his bare chest again.

“Stop trying to distract me with the eyes,” she said.

Bucky laughed. “The eyes?”

“Don’t look at me like you want to kiss me again. It’s distracting. We’re trying to solve a crisis right now.”

He smiled up at her. “Of course. I’ll watch myself and try to behave.”

“Tony. _Tony_. He made the first suit. He knows that kind of stuff better than anyone, right? We call him up, tell him it needs to stay as quiet as possible, give him the info. If he can figure out how to disable them, then getting their hands on the suits won’t be as attractive. You heroes can stop HYDRA from killing anyone else _and_ cut Ross’ plans off before it even gets started. And you wouldn’t even have to confront him to do it. And maybe he’ll forget about us and leave us alone so we can live our damn lives.”

Bucky frowned, resting his left hand on her thigh. “Tony and I aren’t… We’re not exactly friends. I don’t even know if we’re allies. He might not… He might not believe me if I take this information to him, Darcy.”

“He’s not an idiot; he knows you’re on his side even if shit happened in the past.” Darcy smiled. “Did they tell you my student loan payoff offer came from him?”

“Yes, but I thought you didn’t know that.”

Darcy shrugged. “I started asking Nat questions one day. I didn’t think Steve had that kind of cash to throw around, especially after he broke into an ultra high-security federal prison and helped his friends escape. The government has a tendency to seize bank accounts when shit like that goes down. Nat finally admitted that Tony was footing the bill. Which means, Tony doesn’t think you’re a lost cause if he’s willing to do something to help you.”

“You talk like you know him.”

“I don’t. I only met him that first day, but… he’s Iron Man. He’s been defending the entire world for years. He can’t be a bad guy. And, honestly, from what I’ve heard, he has a whole new appreciation for some assholes taking what you can do and twisting it to suit their own ends.”

Bucky sat up, propping himself against the headboard and pillows. Suddenly, she was very aware that they were in bed with very little clothing. The sunlight cast a warm glow on his perfectly gorgeous chest, but it probably also allowed him to see all her imperfections as she kneeled next to him in just a T-shirt that barely covered her panties.

“I can’t just call him,” Bucky said.

Darcy tugged the hem of her shirt down, but all that did was make him glance at her thighs. “What do you mean? Don’t you have his number?”

“Yeah, I have it in my phone. I just… How do I ask him to help me? I killed his fucking parents.”

“First of all, he’s helping himself and everyone else, not just you. Second of all, you didn’t kill his parents. Third of all, he’s our best shot at resolving this without it blowing up. If Ross is just the tip of the iceberg, then blowing it up might get us killed. Or exiled in Wakanda.” Darcy poked his chest lightly with an index finger. “If we have a choice, then let’s be exiled in Wakanda. Okay? I’d totally live in a hut with you, but only if it has central air and running water.”

He smiled. “No air, but it has water.”

Darcy scrunched her nose up. “You drive a hard bargain with plan B. I sweat too much to live without air conditioning.”

“I ain’t taking you away from your life, sweetheart,” he said, lacing the fingers of his cybernetic hand with the fingers of her right hand, the same one she’d used to poke him a moment earlier.

“Dude, I’m not going to have a choice. I knew I might get into a sticky situation if I agreed to play your wife. And here we are in one. If Ross gets away with this, then I’m not going to have a choice; they aren’t going to leave me alone.”

Bucky looked devastated when he squeezed her hand lightly. “Darcy, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I—”

“You didn’t do this. I’ve never in my life seen someone so desperate to take responsibility for stupid shit he didn’t even do. Holy crap, dude. Where’s your phone? Call Tony. Just… give it a shot.”

“We need to be careful about this, doll. Phone conversations can be heard by people you don’t want to hear them. I can’t tell him on the phone, and I don’t know if I can convince him to meet me alone.”

Darcy sighed. The constant looking over her shoulder was exhausting. She dropped down to sit beside him, leaning into his body as he curled his left arm around her shoulders. “So, what do we do? I don’t even know where Steve and Tony are.”

* * *

**[September 12, 2018, 7:51am]**

“She’s scared and she’s pissed and… Look, she doesn’t want to be here anymore.”

“She wants to be in New York City? They still have streets closed around the building she works in.” Ross sounded suspicious.

Bucky’s voice was calm when he said, “She’s worried about people she worked with and said she can’t relax. She’s calling Steve for a pick-up. I can’t tell her no. I can’t force her to stay. You know how she is.”

Ross let out a bark of laughter that reverberated out of the speaker of Bucky’s cell phone. “Oh, I know how she is.” After a long pause, Ross said, “Fine. Go back to New York. That’s easier for me anyway. Keep your phone on. I might need you for a mission. We’re looking into a secondary location on the Mongolian border.”

Darcy could read between the lines. Ross had a team ready to move on the location, but if they were unsuccessful, Bucky would experience a repeat of Chengdu. “Fine. Just… leave her out of it,” Bucky said.

“I told you she’s safe. I have a security detail on her at all times when she’s not with you. We won’t let anything happen to her.”

She could read between those lines, too. If Bucky stepped out of line, then Ross would give the order to take her or kill her or hurt her. She’d never felt more vulnerable in her life, and she’d never felt more impotently pissed off either. Fuck Ross and the horse he rode in on.

After Bucky hung up, Darcy made a call to Steve. He was in London because their air force had detected some anomalies in the North Sea. It had been a bust, though. Nothing had happened and they’d been waiting for eight hours. She told him she and Bucky needed a lift back to New York and asked if they could stop by in the next day or two.

Steve sounded anxious and eager to offer his help, telling them he’d be there before dinner. When Darcy disconnected, she looked at Bucky and gave him a tentative smile. “Okay,” she whispered. “You’ve got permission and we’ve got a ride. Now we just need to figure out how to approach Tony once we’re back in the city.”

Darcy stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. She’d put on a pair of shorts, but Bucky was still a living distraction, walking around in just his underwear. “I’m worried about you,” he said sitting down beside her.

Darcy leaned over and bumped her shoulder into his. “Don’t. I’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” he said, his voice soft.

“We already talked about that; you’re not the reason or the problem. It’ll be okay.” She swayed and bumped her shoulder against his again. “How long as it been since you slept?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Time zones make it all fuzzy. Since I left here?”

“Sounds like you need a nap before your buddy Steve comes to give us a lift.”

He hung his head. “I don’t know if I can sleep.”

“Try,” she said, standing up and turning around to back away from him.

Bucky reached out and caught one of her hands before she could get too far. “Would you stay with me?”

Was her heart beating? Did it restart after it skipped? “If you want me to.”

“I do,” he told her.

Wordlessly, they fixed the twisted sheet until it was flat on the bed and crawled under it. He laid on his side facing her, but he wouldn’t cross the centerline of the bed even though he looked like he was desperate to be closer to her. Darcy lifted up and scooted over until they were close enough to share his pillow. “Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday?”

“I’ll scare you,” he whispered, eyes wide.

She smiled. “No, you won’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you’d never do any of those things to me.”

“Sweetheart, I’d die for you.”

Darcy couldn’t pull in a breath. Or, rather, the only air she could get into her lungs was through shallow gasps that barely even qualified as breathing. Her dad, her brothers—they might die for her. Maybe. She was bad at family and hadn’t really been good about keeping in contact with them. They knew she was married, but they didn’t know who the guy was. They knew she was working in Manhattan, but they didn’t know what she did. They knew the basics because she didn’t know how to talk to them, and her distance had trained them not to ask to many questions or she’d slip away again.

“I don’t want you to die,” she whispered.

The smile he gave her was filled with such warmth it took her breath away. Bucky brought his right hand up to cup her cheek and jaw. Darcy closed her eyes when the pad of his thumb swept across her cheek. She couldn’t stop the smile from curling her lips up when he tenderly kissed her forehead. When she opened her eyes, he was right there, filling her vision.

Bucky gently flicked the stud in her nose. “This is cute,” he murmured.

“Yeah? I always got the impression you weren’t really a fan.”

“No, I think I’ve always been a fan of yours.”

Darcy raised her brows and adjusted her head on the pillow. “No way. You didn’t even want to do this. You were going to stay in Wakanda.”

“I was worried I’d like you too much.”

She laughed. “Oh, the horror. Dude, you didn’t even seem to like me at all.”

“When Steve brought up this idea and told me about you… He told me you were my type.”

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. “Was he right?”

“Mmm, hmm,” Bucky agreed. “But you’ve gotta know that by now, right?”

Her body was humming for him, ready to go. She couldn’t seem to slow her heart down. “Maybe. You know, a girl can get insecure sometimes when some super hot superhero is chatting her up and she’s not sure what the heck he sees in her when there are a lot of prettier girls available.”

“Who is this guy chatting up my wife?” Bucky asked, smiling.

“He’s kissed your wife a few times, but we don’t talk about it. I think it might be taboo. Like, if we talk about it then we’ll ruin it.”

“Kinda like we don’t talk about your sexy books?” he asked.

She pinched his nipple between her thumb and forefinger, making him jerk and then laugh. “I didn’t tell you to read them,” Darcy said.

“They gave me a lot of insight, you know.”

She groaned, but a rush of adrenaline raced through her body. “Just because I read it, doesn’t mean I like it.”

“I know. That’s why I only read your favorites.”

The butterflies in her stomach were out of control. Darcy gave a nervous chuckle before saying, “Not sure why you, uh, read them if you didn’t intend on using the information to your advantage.”

“Oh, I want to, but… Wasn’t sure if you wanted me to, uh, regale you with your favorites.” He looked just as nervous as she was.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Bucky nodded.

“How good is your hearing _really_?”

“Pretty good.”

“So, you’d definitely say you could hear through the bedroom door in our apartment?”

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s a safe bet.”

“Fuck,” she muttered, bringing her hands up to cover her face. “I shouldn’t have used the vibrator.”

Bucky laughed softly and wrapped his arms around her. “If your hearing was half as good, then you’d have heard me in the shower every morning.”

“Oh my god, don’t give me that visual. It’s too much. I can’t even handle you when you’re dry with underwear. What am I supposed to do with the image of you wet and naked?”

When she pulled her hands away from her face and placed them on his chest, Buck said, “I know we aren’t supposed to talk about it, but I really wanna kiss you. You think I could?”

“That’s funny you’re asking since you’ve had permission this entire time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But do you _actually_ want the burn to end? Yes? No?


	26. Chapter 26

> _”I miss the sound of your voice. And I miss the rush of your skin. And I miss the still of the silence as you breathe out and I breathe in.” - Matt Nathanson (Come On Get Higher)_

**[September 12, 2018, 8:21am]**

He’d gone from hell to heaven in the space of a few hours. It wasn’t so long ago he’d been fighting for his life against men that were supposed to be under his command. Now, he was in bed with _her_ and she was pliant in his hands, arching into him as he kissed her jaw and chin and finally her lips. He’d never get used to kissing her or the way her breath hitched when he tempted her to part those full lips with his tongue.

Bucky had been so scared to initiate anything, blaming his hesitancy on not knowing where he stood with her in that regard or blaming it on not knowing how to find intimacy again after so long without it. Now that he was in bed with her and she’d given him permission to touch and taste, he wanted to rush. Kissing wasn’t enough. He needed more. He needed her out of her clothes. He needed her on top of him, all over him, surrounding him. She was enough to block out all that noise, all that hell he’d experienced. Maybe not forever, but at this moment she was.

Her hands were everywhere, but he barely registered them because he was too intent on where his hands were. How they were skimming over her waist and hip so he could grab a handful of her gorgeous ass that he’d been tempted by so many times before. Bucky needed more space and more access, so he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

Darcy didn’t miss a beat. With her palms on his chest, she let her legs fall to either side of his hips, knees digging into the mattress and effectively pinning him down. The rush of relief that the position didn’t trigger his flight or fight response was a potent aphrodisiac. He grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted his hips, grinding into her, unashamed of how hard she made him. She groaned into his mouth before breaking off the kiss. All he could see was the elegant curve of her neck and heaving chest.

When she looked down at him, her eyes were glassy and her pupils blown wide. “Are we actually doing this? Because I’ve wanted to do this for, like, two months.”

He felt euphoric when he laughed and said, “We met two months ago.”

“Yeah, two months and four days. I stand by my statement. Actually, no… I’ve wanted to do this for—”

“Two months and four days,” Bucky said, interrupting her. “Me, too.”

Darcy scoffed. “You, too? You hid it real well there at first. I was starting to feel like a horny creep.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea how many dirty things I’ve thought of doing to you. It’s just… been a long time and I’m…” Bucky exhaled and ran his hands up underneath her shirt, feeling the soft skin of her back.

She dipped her head down and gave him a sweet kiss that was at odds with the way she was shifting her hips and rubbing herself against his constrained cock. “Ditto,” she whispered.

“Ditto?” Bucky grabbed her hips and held her down against him so he could concentrate. “Are you saying you haven’t done this in…”

“Oh, like, a year or two.”

“Doll, I’ve got you beat. I haven’t done this is in a decade or seven. I’m afraid I’m going to fuck this up. You have all those books about sex and I—”

“This is way better,” she told him, running a hand through his hair while the other one stayed planted on his chest to prop herself up. “Like, way, way better. Like, I could come just rubbing against you.”

Her breathy words as she hovered her lips over his set Bucky’s blood on fire. He reached down and used both hands to rip her shorts and panties right where the seam was on her left thigh.

“Bucky!” she squealed.

He ripped the other side and Darcy—bless her—reached down between them to pull the ruined clothes away and throw them on the floor. The way she was leaning over him made Bucky crazy because he couldn’t see what she looked like. His body was throbbing with the need to see her pussy. All he could think about was putting his mouth on her and tasting her, of knowing nothing else but her hot skin and that musky smell he’d only caught the scent of a couple of times before.

Bucky rolled his tongue out to wet his lips. “Come ‘ere,” he whispered, feeling bold and ravenous and desperate.

She threw her head back as she rolled her hips, grinding down on his cock. The only thing between was the thin fabric of his boxers. She hadn’t heard his request because she was too busy trying to ride him. When Darcy lifted up so she could reach down and maneuver his cock through the opening on the front of his boxers, Bucky caught a glimpse of a triangle of hair and her pink slit right above his crotch. Her hand was between her legs and the memory of listening to her get herself off in the bedroom hit hard. The brush of her fingertips on his rock hard cock hit harder, though. If he let her continue, then he’d come all over himself before he could even get a taste of her.

“Come here,” he said, reaching down and grabbing her hand, lacing their fingers together. He did the same for the hand she had steadied on his chest. Palms together, fingers interlocked, he pulled her up so she was sitting on his stomach.

“I’m here,” she said, laughing. “Where can I come?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks and… can’t get it outta my head,” Bucky said, lifting his hips and pulling her forward again. He could just pick her up and put her right where he wanted her, but he didn’t want to scare her. What if she wasn’t into it? There had been a couple of her books with similar scenes.

Darcy’s legs were spread wide as she straddled his chest now. He could feel the heat coming off her and see wetness glistening in the wiry hairs at the top of her slit. “Oh my god,” she groaned, closing her eyes. “You can’t lick your lips like that when I’m like this. It should be illegal.”

He felt giddy with desire. “Get up here, doll. I want a taste.”

“I’ve never…”

“Never what?”

She laughed, her cheeks pinking up all nice and pretty. “Umm, facesitting?”

“Me neither. Come here.” Bucky let go of her right hand so he could use his cybernetic one to urge her leg up and over his shoulder. He heard a thump when as she smacked her palm against the wall above the headboard to brace herself.

“You don’t… You don’t have to… do this. You know?” She lifted her knee and let him guide her into place.

“I’ve been thinking about this for so fucking long,” he assured her before releasing her other hand and helping her maneuver the other leg. She shifted, resting her calves on his shoulders and letting her knees dig into the mattress on either side of his head. Now, when he looked up all he could see was Darcy—her white T-shirt he hadn’t managed to get off yet, her eyes looking down at him, her hands braced on the wall, her thighs on either side of his face. And if he slid down just a bit, he could see her pussy, bared to his gaze. Her scent was intoxicating. For a moment, Bucky wondered if he’d come from just the idea of putting his mouth on her.

“Bucky,” she urged, shifting her hips.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs and scooted down before lifting his chin to taste her. Bucky opened his mouth and ran the flat of his tongue over her slit, dipping inside just the slightest bit right at the top so he could graze her little clit.

“Oh, _fuck_,” Darcy grunted, throwing her head back.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he lifted his head and started licking and sucking on her lips, lapping up her musky, fragrant juices that fueled his desire even more. Her breath would hitch each time he bumped the tip of his tongue up against her swollen clit. After a few passes, she’d started rocking her hips for him and making desperate little noises that translated to fire in his bloodstream. Her thighs caged him in and she’d widened her stance so he didn’t even have to lift his head in order to get a good taste of her. It was overwhelming in a very good way. Everything else just faded into the background in favor of her heat and her scent and her taste. His cock had to be harder than it had ever been before and just the idea of sliding it deep inside her nearly sent him over the edge.

He tried to ignore the throbbing of his erection and focus on her pussy and the way she would rock forwards and backward when he speared her with his tongue. There was a strange feeling of being utterly used and still having all the power. She was riding his face, taking her pleasure. And yet, he was the one making her come undone, making her cry out in pleasure each time she rocked backward and brought his tongue into contact with that sensitive little button.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, feeling almost feral as he tilted his chin and opened his mouth wide.

“Bu—Bucky,” she said reaching one hand down to grasp a handful of his hair. The touch was like jet fuel thrown on the fire of his desire for her. She was so close to coming undone and it was because of him. He’d done this to her; he’d brought her to this point where she was a quaking, shaking, moaning, groaning mess. He could hear how close she was to shattering in the quiver of her voice, the hitch in her breath, the grip of her fingers as she clutched at his hair. At that moment, he owned her. She was his and she’d do anything for him if he’d just make her come.

Bucky moved his right arm so he could slip the tip of his index finger between her pussy lips. She cried out and tried to push down on him. She was so desperate, so needy to have something to fill her up. God, he wanted to be that something so fucking bad. Bucky pressed the index and middle fingers of his right hand together and slowly pushed them up inside her. The muscles that made up the walls of her pussy bore down on him, and Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head as he thought about how his cock would feel with her tight sheath wrapped around him, dripping wet from him fucking her until she came over and over and over.

Another day, he told himself. He’d be lucky to last a minute inside her heaven. Bucky fucked her slowly with two fingers while he latched his mouth on her clit, alternately sucking it and flicking it with his tongue. She went just a little crazier, when he let the sides of his tongue rub up and down the distended nub of flesh, so he kept that up while he explored her with his fingers, speeding up and slowing down until she sounded delirious on top of him, bucking her hips against the firm grip of his cybernetic hand.

“Bucky!” she cried out as her entire body tensed. When he pressed into her again, he could feel the contractions as she gripped onto his fingers, like she was trying to pull him deeper inside her. She cried out when he tentatively took her clit between his lips. Her legs were trembling.

“Did you come for me, sweetheart?” he whispered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, right at the juncture of her leg and torso.

She pressed her forehead to the wall. “Uh, huh,” she told him before letting out a giddy laugh. “Fuck, that was intense. I’ve never…”

He waited for her to finish, but she didn’t. Bucky kissed her other thigh and pulled his fingers out of her so he could slide his right hand up underneath her T-shirt. “You’ve never, what?” he whispered, palming one of her tits.

“Come that hard,” she said, putting a hand over his, pressing his palm over her nipple. “I can’t move,” Darcy admitted.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her body. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he managed her to get flat on her back in the middle of the bed. And he managed to get himself wedged between her thighs. “Lemme see you, Darcy,” he whispered, looking down at her prone body. The shirt was bunched up just below her tits, and she eagerly lifted up and whipped it off so he could look down at her naked body.

“Lemme see you,” she replied, dropping her gaze to his cock. The head of it had pushed through the opening of his boxers. She licked her lips and he almost lost all control. She must have noticed the way his hands shook when he reached for the waistband and lifted his knees one by one to discard the last of the clothing between them. “Fuck, Bucky,” she said, eyes riveted to his cock. “You’ve been hiding that in your pants this whole time?”

Chuckling, he took himself in his right hand and batted hers away with his left. “You touch me and I’ll go off.”

“Get inside me,” she demanded, lifting her hips up, begging him with those big eyes and pouty mouth.

He pressed his cock down, lining the head up with her slit. Instead of indulging in the erotic sight of rubbing himself against her, he clenched his teeth together and flexed his muscles as he pushed into her. “Ahh, fuck, doll,” he grunted as he worked a bit more of himself inside her.

Darcy hooked one of her legs over his hip when he was all the way in, his balls resting against her. “Please, please, please, please,” she murmured. “You feel so fucking _good_. I can’t even think.”

Her and him both, he thought as he pulled out and slid back home. Yeah, he wasn’t going to last long at all. Bracing one arm on the bed, he grabbed her chin and kissed her. His tongue swept into her mouth as he thrust his cock deep inside her until he couldn’t go any further. Darcy’s nails digging into his shoulder and her heel digging into his ass were the only things that registered other than the pulse of his orgasm that shot through him like a bolt of lightning. “Darcy!” he cried out, burying his face into her neck as he rocked into her, filling her up.

He lost the sense of time for a moment, but when his consciousness shifted back into awareness, he could feel her hands rubbing his back and neck. Her legs were wrapped around him and he was still fully inside her welcoming body. All he could smell was her shampoo and her pussy juices still drying on his face.

Bucky nuzzled his face into her hair and sighed. “Sorry,” he whispered.

She chuckled. “For what?”

“Coming so fast.”

“Mmm,” she hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m taking it as a compliment. Also, you gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life, so I’m pretty sure you can take your apologies and shove ‘em.”

“I’ll do better next time,” he promised, kissing her neck and then her jawline.

By the time he reached her mouth, she was smiling. “If you do, then you might kill me. I’m not used to super sex with a super-soldier.”

He felt a flash of panic when he realized he hadn’t held back. “Did I hurt you, sweethe—”

Darcy’s laughter cut him off. “No, no, no. You made me feel amazing. I’m just not used to feeling so…”

“Satisfied?” he asked, hopeful.

“Exactly,” she replied before lifting her chin up so she could kiss his lips.

* * *

**[September 12, 2018, 3:45pm]**

Bucky woke slowly. It was an unusual feeling because his brain normally shot into consciousness like a rocket even if he didn’t physically jump out of bed. He felt lazy and warm and the sheets were soft against his body. Memories filtered through the haze of sleep—her legs wrapped around him, the sweet noises she’d exhaled when he’d made her come on his face, the overwhelming heat of her wet pussy as he entered her, the fullness of her ass filling his hands.

Looking over, he saw her sleeping next to him. The sun was out and the day was bright and likely hot for mid-September. He rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand. Steve would probably be there within the hour. They’d fallen asleep afterward without any concern of someone walking into the cabin and finding them naked and in bed together. The idea that other people might know how he felt for her and what he did with her made him uncomfortable and anxious.

And yet, he couldn’t quite seem to force himself to roll out of bed and find clothes. Darcy was on her back with her right hand curled up on her chest. The wedding ring on her finger caught his eye, and Bucky reached up with his right hand to rub the pad of his thumb over the band. When he moved his fingertips to trace her sternum, she shifted in her sleep, turning towards him.

He smiled to himself as he cupped one of her tits, enjoying the weight of it in his hand as he rubbed his thumb slowly over the nipple. Darcy sighed and arched her back just the slightest bit like she wanted more even though she was still asleep. As he ran his eyes over her beautiful face, Bucky realized he was in too deep. _She’s getting paid_, he thought. She was here to get out of debt, and he’d gone and fallen in love with her. What would happen when their time was up? Would she stay? Could he ask her to stay, knowing that his life would just continue to put her in the position they were in now with her life in the balance? He couldn’t ask her to put herself on the line for him. It was selfish. He wasn’t worth enough—couldn’t offer her enough—to make that kind of danger worthwhile.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice froggy with sleep. He’d been so entranced by his thumb coaxing her nipple to swell and protrude, so deep in his own worries about the future, that he hadn’t even realized she’d woken.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

“What time is it?”

“Almost four in the afternoon.” He stopped touching her breast and skimmed his fingers over her side so he could trace the dip in her waist and the swell of her hip. “Steve’ll be here soon.”

“Mmm, I wish everything could go away and we could stay here,” Darcy said, reaching up and grabbing the back of his head.

She took the lead when she pulled him down and kissed his lips. Bucky groaned and kissed her back, blood rushing in his ears and his half-hard cock starting to wake up fully. He scattered kisses up and down her neck, over her jaw and chin, and down to her chest where he alternated sucking on her nipples and tracing circles around them with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmm, you’re so good with your mouth,” she murmured, her hands tangled in his long hair.

Bucky chuckled and kissed a trail up her chest and neck so he could take her mouth again. They both gasped and broke off the kiss when someone banged on the door. “Buck? Bucky, are you okay?”

He rolled out of bed and grabbed a pillow to cover his bouncing erection. “Steve,” he told Darcy as she pulled the sheet up to her chin.

The door opened and Steve’s boots crossed the floor of the living room. The steps were light, cautious.

“Here,” he yelled out, grabbing for his underwear that had been discarded in the floor earlier that day. “Just a second.” He managed to tug them up over his hips just as Steve stepped into the bedroom doorway.

“You ready to—” Steve stopped as he took in the scene. He no doubt saw Bucky in his underwear looking frazzled and still sporting an erection, and a blushing and gorgeous Darcy in the middle of the mattress with a sheet wrapped around her body. Steve was going to presume Darcy was naked and he was going to be very right. “Oh. Uh, sorry.” Steve smiled as he dropped his gaze to the floor and turned to leave the room.

Bucky followed him. “We fell asleep,” he said.

Steve had that grin on his face that said he knew better. “Yeah, okay.”

“Steve,” Bucky warned, pulling his shirt on. “Don’t do this.”

“You two act like you’re actually married, you know?” Steve said. “Always have.” He reached out and clapped Bucky on a shoulder. “I’m happy for you.”

Bucky walked away from the bedroom door and said, “Just… leave it alone. It ain’t anything. We just… that kinda stuff happens sometimes. It don’t mean what you think.”

“I didn’t say it meant anything,” Steve said, holding his hands up, palms out.

“You said you’re happy for me. Ain’t nothing to be happy about. I can’t do anything… real with her or anyone else. You know that.” Bucky turned around to grab his pants from the bedroom and shut the door so Darcy could get dressed in private. He froze when he found her standing in the middle of the bedroom, the sheet wrapped around her body. The look in her eyes was a mixture of pain and humiliation, like she’d just had the rug pulled out from under her.

Darcy shifted her gaze to the floor before she turned to find her overnight bag. His gut twisted when he realized she must have heard what he’d just said to Steve. “Doll,” he said, stepping closer, his right hand reaching out to take her arm.

She pulled away from him and snatched her bag off the chair to take it over to the bed. “Can you shut the door so I can get dressed?” she asked.

“Darcy, I didn’t… I can’t... I don’t know how to—”

“It’s fine. Whatever. Just… shut the door, please.”

She refused to look at him, and he could feel her slipping away. He’d told Steve he couldn’t have anything real with her, but damned if he didn’t want to try and fix all that pain in her eyes from what he’d said. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out, sweetheart.”

“Then why’d you say it that way?” She stopped pulling her clothes out of the bag and leveled her gaze on him.

“I don’t know what the hell we’re doing, Darcy. You’re getting paid to pretend with me and… where does pretend end and real begin?”

“I thought that line was pretty fucking clear, but… whatever. I guess not. I’m not a hooker, if you’re wondering.” Her laugh was harsh. “You can put your wallet back in your pocket.”

“I didn’t say that. I didn’t… Fuck, sweetheart. I don’t know what to say. I care about you, and the closer you are to me, the more danger you’re in.”

She pulled on a pair of panties, lifting the sheet up as she went. The vision of her straddling his chest and smiling down at him last night hit him so hard he reached out to brace a hand on the wall. “I’m already your wife. How much closer can I get?”

“For a year. You’re mine for a year.”

“Is that it?” she asked. “You wanna keep the time limit on it, regardless of whether this is fake or not?”

He hung his head. “I don’t want you to waste your fucking life on me.”

She pulled on a pair of pants. “Whatever, dude. Just… whatever. I legit care _so much_ about you and it doesn’t seem to matter because you’re hell-bent on some kind of self-destruction.”

“I’m not suici—”

“I know you aren’t. But telling people who care about you to limit their time in your life and blaming it on some boogeyman… that’s self-destruction, too.” When he looked up at Darcy, her eyes were filled with tears. Darcy looked up at the ceiling and sniffed. “Take it from some who has been there, done that. I can count my friends on one hand and I’ve never told a boyfriend that I loved him because I always thought I’d fuck it up if it were ever really real. If it was ever for keeps.” She pulled a bra out of her bag. “Cutting everyone out is self-destruction. Welcome to the fucking club.”

“You have more friends than that. You’ve got me and Steve and—”

“Is that what we are? Friends?”

He sighed. “I don’t know what we are, but it’s more than friends.”

She clutched the sheet to her chest. “Fuck you, dude. Really. You think pushing me away is going to keep me safe? I’m on record as your wife. You acting like a dick now isn’t changing that, so just be honest and tell me you aren’t into me like that. I’m an adult; I can take it.” She paused to give him space to respond, but Bucky didn’t know what to say. Darcy scoffed. “You know what? Nevermind. Too much shit is going down right now. Let’s just… talk about this later.” Darcy nodded toward the door. “Go find Steve and let me get dressed.”

“Doll…”

“Later. Just… let me get dressed.”

He nodded and left the room with his pants in hand.

Right after Bucky shut the door, he heard her mutter something to herself. It sounded an awful lot like, “Let me get dressed and see if I can find my fucking dignity.”

He wanted to open the door and do anything to make her feel better. He wanted to tell her he was in love with her and that he’d do anything to make her happy, but her safety had to come before her happiness.

* * *

**[September 12, 2018, 10:02pm]**

She was distant, reserved, not the generous woman who would smile at him for no reason or pull a face at some of his more questionable cooking techniques even though she always ate what he made. He’d made her that way. He’d folded under his desire for her and then he’d said things that weren’t true because he was too afraid of what admitting he was in love would mean. They’d known each other for two months and four days. He’d known she would be trouble from the beginning, even before they met. Sitting in T’Challa’s home and talking to a holographic projection of her seemed like something he’d lived a lifetime ago. A lifetime before her and without her. Thinking about returning to a life she wasn’t in made Bucky feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“What did he say?” she asked, resting her shoulder against the doorframe of the bedroom. They were back in their apartment. The place was free of surveillance devices and he’d just had an awkward, stilted conversation with Tony Stark, asking him to see them face-to-face. Tony was flippant and dismissive, yet he ended the conversation by giving them his temporary address while the damage to Stark Tower was assessed. Bucky suspected Tony was more curious than anything about what he’d have to say that couldn’t be said in front of everyone.

“He said he’ll see us. We just gotta get outta here without tipping off anyone who might be watching,” Bucky told her.

“You nervous?”

“Yeah. What if he doesn’t believe me?”

“He will. Don’t worry about that, Bucky.”

He turned his phone over in his hand, eyes on the beige carpet. “I’m worried about you. I didn’t mean what I said to Steve, sweetheart. He just… caught me by surprise and I didn’t know how to explain… us… to him.”

“Uh, I don’t know how to explain us either, so… if you figure it out, let me know.”

He glanced up at her. “Aren’t you scared?”

“For sure. I’m scared of a gazillion things. Where do you want to start?”

“Sometimes it seems like you ain’t afraid of anything.”

Darcy laughed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m an excellent bluffer.”

“Are you scared of what will happen to you if… if you spend more than a year as my wife?” Why couldn’t he say it? Why couldn’t he just come out and ask her if she was scared to make the relationship _real_, not just legal?

“Dude, I am scared of so many things, but that’s one thing that isn’t on the list.”

His heart felt like it was beating in his throat. This was all too much—her, HYDRA, Ross, Stark… He was barely capable of handling one issue, much less all four in the space of a day or two. “It _should_ be on the list. You and I have been together for two months and you’ve already got a target on your back. I care about you, sweetheart. It makes me feel like hell that they could hurt you because of _me_.”

“But it wouldn’t be your fault. Besides, I have self-defense… things.”

Bucky smiled softly at her. “Just because I’m not the one hurting you, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt me to be the reason. I want you to be happy. You’ve been so good to me—for me. You deserve to be happy. Looking over your shoulder and sweeping your apartment for audio equipment—that ain’t any kind of life.”

“Sounds like you don’t know what makes me happy.” Darcy looked at him with clear eyes, daring him to question her. Daring him to understand.

He stood up. “We should figure out how to get to Tony. It’s getting late.”

She nodded, gaze dropping to the floor. “As much as it pains me to say this, I think maybe if we put on workout gear and hoodies and keep our heads down, then we could jog down the block and right into the subway. They’d just think we were other tenants in the building going for a workout.”

“It pains you to admit that?”

She gave him a wry smile. “Yeah. I’m going to have to jog a block or two with Mr. Physical Fitness over there.”

“I’ll go slow,” he promised.

* * *

**[September 12, 2018, 10:53pm]**

“Shit,” Tony muttered, grabbing at his ribs as he tried to sit up in the hospital bed that had been brought into the bedroom of a penthouse apartment in Tribeca.

Bucky turned his back to Tony and walked across the room to give the man some privacy. He knew what it felt like to be down for the count and have people staring at you while you tried to get back up. There was something about it that just stripped your dignity.

Darcy had left the room to get something to drink in the kitchen with Pepper Potts. Bucky knew she’d left to give him time with Tony alone. He’d sat there in an armchair next to Tony’s bed and laid out what had happened with HYDRA and Ross. Bucky had started with the implied threat to Darcy’s life if he didn’t cooperate and ended with the attack on him in Chengdu. Tony hadn’t interrupted the narrative as he’d intently watched Bucky. This tenuous peace felt like it could snap at any moment.

Bucky turned around when Tony said, “Why me?” He was pale-faced and clutching at his ribs. There was a purple bruise on his left cheek, a sling holding his other arm into place, and a cast halfway up his thigh on his left leg.

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you bring this to just me? Why not Steve?”

Bucky exhaled and looked down at the floor. When he looked up, Stark was staring back with shrewd eyes despite the pain he was obviously in. “Because we can’t blow the lid off this until we know how deep it goes. If it’s just HYDRA using China for their bankroll and Ross trying to grab some of the tech to make the Avengers obsolete… If it’s just that then it’s bad, but it isn’t… _that_ bad. But if Ross is just the hand and the orders are coming from other people…”

“I’m not exactly a scalpel to Roger’s sword. I’ve been known to shoot first and ask questions later. Ask Pepper; she has _opinions_.”

He chuckled nervously. “We… Darcy and I… thought you could find a way to disable the units. If they can’t use their power source, the suits would be useless. It’d buy us some time to figure out if we’ve got a single problem in Ross or a mess of problems.”

Tony winced as he shifted again. “It’s almost always a mess of problems.”

“I want HYDRA gone. I want to stop them from killing anyone else, but I don’t want Ross to get these suits. He’s… he’s already threatened Dary’s life if I don’t cooperate. He’d try to do the same with all of you. Get in line and shut your mouth or our new unit of Iron Man suits will take you or everyone you care about out of the picture, you know?”

Stark snorted. “I never was good at falling in line or shutting up.” Bucky stared back, meeting Tony’s hard gaze. Finally, the other man let his head fall back and exhaled a deep breath. “Well, fuck,” he said. “You couldn’t get a working power source out of there?”

“No,” Bucky told him, sitting down on the edge of one of the armchairs, his hands clasped together and his forearms resting on his knees. “Ross’ team would have caught it and confiscated it. I got a scan of it using a device Shuri gave me before I left Wakanda. I’d been taking it on missions to check for surveillance equipment so they didn’t really think anything of it when I had it on me. I got the plans HYDRA had there, too.”

“What does Ross have?”

“A broken unit, just like you retrieved from Fort Bliss and your building after the attacks.”

“Let me see,” Stark said, nodding at a console in the wall. Bucky walked over and placed the chip containing the information he’d retrieved in Chengdu into it. “Little help here, FRIDAY? Can you give me the goods?”

“Certainly, sir,” the computer said before a holographic display of the schematics appeared in the air a few inches from Tony’s face.

Bucky walked over to stand beside Stark as he reviewed the data. “Could this work? Could you disable them? I’ll hunt HYDRA down and wipe them off the face of this planet if you can disable them.”

“Could you take the good General with you while you’re at it?” Tony asked.

Bucky opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

“Kidding, Barnes. _Kidding_. Unless your assassin days aren’t done and then, go for it. He played me once; I won’t let it happen again. What’s that Bush quote? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—can’t get fooled again.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Bucky said.

Tony nodded. “Right. No one said our Presidents were the brightest crayons in the box. Never been a conspiracy theory guy, but shit like this with Ross makes me wonder if the men running our country are just pawns in some fucked up game of power we never see.”

“I think we’ve all been used a time or two,” Bucky agreed.

Rubbing his eyes, Tony said, “I’m done being used.” He pulled up the scan of the power source. “What color was it in person? Blue?”

“Yeah.”

“Light blue? Neon blue?”

“Dark blue with a shimmer.”

Tony made a disgusted sound. “This is old tech. It’s some bastardized version of stuff I was using five or six years ago.”

“That’s good, right?”

Widening his eyes and throwing Bucky an annoyed look, Stark said, “No. It means someone stole my shit and gave it to assholes who used it to give me a bad name.”

“No one blames you, Stark. You weren’t the one who did it.”

“Still feels like shit.”

Bucky snorted. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

Tony’s gaze was fixated on a point on the wall, but his stare was vacant. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, “Look, I shouldn’t have tried to kill you. I know you didn’t… choose to kill them. I get that now.”

“What happened to me and what happened to you… they’re two different things, Stark. I _did_ kill them. You… You just had one of your inventions perverted for—”

“Come on, Barnes. Do me a favor and don’t talk me out of an apology. I hate admitting I’m wrong, mostly because I’m never wrong. So, just fucking take it, okay? Just… take it. Truce, all right? Fuck HYDRA.”

“Fuck HYDRA,” Bucky agreed.

“And fuck that smug shit Thaddeus Ross. What kind of name is that anyway?”

He chuckled at Tony’s question. “Fuck Ross,” he agreed.

Tony grunted as he shifted to sit up a bit more. On instinct, Bucky held out his left arm and give the man something to hold onto. Tony looked down at the cybernetic arm and then up into Bucky’s face.

“Sorry,” Bucky said, pulling his arm away. Before he could press it against his side and hide it from Tony’s eyes, Tony’s hand latched onto his forearm. Gritting his teeth to stifle the groan of pain as he sat up more fully, Tony allowed Bucky to help him.

“You’re going to let me do scans of this arm in my lab. I’m interested in how Wakanda does what they do. It’s not every day one of their custom projects shows up.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, let’s just look at the way they bastardized my baby,” Tony said, running a finger over the readout from the power source. “This is different. I… It’ll help reverse engineer it.”

“Could you tell us how to shut them down if you did?”

“Maybe,” Tony said. “They’ve added their own technology to this. I’ve never seen it before.”

A soft knock on the bedroom door announced Darcy and Pepper returning. Pepper brought a mug of coffee over to Tony and handed it to him as she perched on the edge of his bed. “What’s this?” she asked.

“A mess,” Tony replied.

Darcy cleared her throat and said, “Do you think another opinion might help?”

“Help with what? Figuring out how they turned my own inventions against me?” Tony asked as he took a sip of the coffee and brought the plans up next to the scan of the power source.

Bucky looked over at Darcy. She was watching him. “I think I know someone who can be discreet and who might be able to help.”

“Foster?” Tony asked. “Sure, call her up. This isn’t her area of expertise. It’s not Bruce’s either, but where’s that big-brained asshole when you need him, right?”

“Actually, I was thinking of someone a little younger,” Darcy said.

Bucky almost laughed out loud when he realized who she was talking about. How could he have been so blind? Of course. They needed Tony; he might be able to do it on his own, but there was also a young woman in Wakanda who would be more than happy to lend her genius brain. “Shuri,” he told everyone as he pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll call her.”


	27. Chapter 27

> _Babe, can’t you see that this is killing me. I don’t want to push you, baby. And I don’t want you to be told. It’s just that I can’t breathe without you. Feel like I’m gonna lose control.” - Lenny Kravitz (Can’t Get You Off My Mind)_

**[September 14, 2018, 1:44pm]**

Darcy laid her head on the desk of her temporary office, which was a tiny room with two narrow windows that happened to be three floors below Tony Stark’s temporary home in New York City. Tony, who was rolling around in a wheelchair controlled by a computer program, was across the hall working on reverse-engineering the power sources HYDRA had developed by lifting some of his work. That morning, Darcy had wrapped battery-operated Christmas lights she’d found in the bottom of a box in her office around the arms of the chair. Tony insisted they looked stupid, but he hadn’t taken them off. He’d actually flipped Natasha off when she’d made a comment about the blinking lights as she’d passed him in the hall.

Darcy tried to force a smile when the woman walked into the office and settled down in one of the ugly, brown chairs across the desk from her. “I hear you and Bucky have been up to a lot,” Nat said.

For a moment, Darcy thought she was talking about their one-day-stand in the cabin before they’d returned to the city a couple of days before. Just like they shied away from talking about those kisses, they sure as hell weren’t talking about the sex. Bucky had spent the night they got back pouring over the data with Tony. Last night he’d fallen asleep on the couch and woken her with a shout. They’d picked back up on their old routine of falling asleep while watching television and him carrying her to bed, but disappearing before she woke. Not so much as a kiss or a longing look was handed out, and Darcy had begun to resign herself to the fact that a real relationship was never going to happen. He’d told Steve it didn’t mean anything; maybe that was the truth of it. Maybe she’d been reaching a bit too far when she’d thought for a moment that they could actually pull something real out of the marriage.

Before she could open her mouth and say something stupid, Darcy realized Nat was probably referring to what Bucky had told Steve. Bucky had agreed to go on a run with Steve that morning since Steve was anxious over no leads and Bucky was dying inside not telling his friend what was going on. Darcy had suggested he tell Steve after their run. She could only assume he’d taken her advice. “How’d it go?” she asked Nat.

“Steve’s about twenty percent mad at Bucky for withholding info and about twenty percent determined to wipe HYDRA from the face of the planet and, oh, about fifty percent determined to get Ross fired and sent to prison,” Nat said, brushing lint off the thigh of her pants.

Darcy narrowed her eyes as she did the math. “You’re missing ten percent.”

Nat smiled. “Ten percent convinced that you and Bucky are in love and are going to stay married. He’s prepared to take all the credit for that, you know.”

She laughed, but it was more bitter than anything else. “I don’t think we’re going to stay married. Bucky is pretty focused on our one-year expiration date. I can’t figure out if he’s actually got self-worth issues and believes I wouldn’t take a lot of risks to be with him or if he’s just being nice and using that as an excuse to let me down easy.”

“What do you want?”

Darcy looked away. “Doesn’t matter. I’m already in too deep. Actually, I feel like a fucking idiot, but whatever… Shit happens, I guess.”

“Steve asked him if he was in love with you.”

Darcy felt her stomach drop into the floor. Looking up at Nat, she said, “And?”

“He wouldn’t answer.”

“So, no,” Darcy said, wincing.

Nat shook her head. “I said he wouldn’t answer.” Pausing for a moment, she cocked her head at Darcy. “Are _you_ in love with him?”

“It doesn’t matter. It takes two to tango and he...he… Forget it.”

Natasha just smiled. “I’m taking credit for this one. I’m the one who found you and suggested you to Steve. I’m not letting him steal my thunder.”

“Uh, you might want to hold off your victory lap since Bucky and I aren’t… you know… We’re just... friends.”

“No, you’re not.”

Darcy leaned forward and rested her forehead on the surface of her desk. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we talk about something cheerful like HYDRA instead?”

“One other thing you should know,” Nat said. “I just pulled some strings and got copies of Tafford’s personal files. He wasn’t just sent to check up on Bucky’s mental state and the validity of your marriage. He was actually sent to assess your relationship so he could report back to Ross whether Bucky could be manipulated by using you as leverage.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured,” Darcy said, lifting her head up to look at Nat again. “That’s…”

“Fucked up. Yeah, I agree. But… hey, politicians. They’re the worst. Ross wanted to know if he could keep Bucky in line by either offering to protect you in exchange or threatening to hurt or kill you as punishment.”

“We kinda figured that’s what was happening, but… gross.”

Nat shrugged. “They believed you.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s the silver lining, huh? We faked it so well, they thought it was real enough to use me as leverage to get him to run these crazy-ass missions.” She shook her head. “You know, sometimes I think he would have done those missions anyway. He wants to help.”

“He wouldn’t have agreed to them,” Nat assured her. “I’m certain of that. He might have helped Steve out or gone on that first mission, but probably not the second and definitely not the third.”

Darcy scoffed. “Great. Thanks. That makes me feel better. I’m over here ruining his peace of mind by just existing.”

* * *

**[September 15, 2018, 4:01pm]**

“Couldn’t you send out a pulse?” Shuri asked, flapping a red Twizzler around in Tony’s direction.

“We don’t know where they are, kid,” Tony replied. “Even if we get the lab at the top of the Tower repaired, the signal isn’t going to be strong enough to reach everywhere.”

Shuri had shown up almost two hours ago in a tracksuit and a knit hat cover her hair. The day was just cool enough to make the tracksuit appropriate, but the hat looked a bit out of place. T’Challa was in jeans and a T-shirt with sunglasses covering his eyes. They’d landed in Connecticut without much fanfare in hopes Ross wouldn’t see the activity and start putting two and two together. Sam had retrieved them and driven them into the city. Upon arriving, Shuri had immediately stolen Darcy’s pack of Twizzlers, sat on Darcy’s desk, and asked about Bucky.

Darcy had just nodded her head and said, “Good,” even though things were far from good. Now Shuri’s brain was focused on analyzing Tony’s theory that a pulse of energy at the right wavelength could knock out the power sources without much, if any, damage to other electronic devices.

“You’re not going to fry my cell phone, are you?” Darcy asked.

“Maybe,” Shuri said with a smile.

“Can we wait until November, then? I’m eligible for an upgrade,” she joked, waving her iPhone at them.

“What is _that_?” Tony asked, a disgusted look passing over his face. “Somebody get Lewis a phone. She’s using tech from three years ago.”

“Two,” she corrected.

“Three or four. It’s not a Stark phone.”

“My bank account says I can’t have a Stark phone.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped when Steve and Bucky entered the room. They were still in their running gear with sweat beaded on their foreheads. Bucky’s eyes went to Darcy first. He looked uncomfortable, but it was hard to be his buffer when she was trying to figure out how _not_ to be in love with him.

“Sergeant Barnes!” Shuri exclaimed, sliding off the table she’d been sitting on and making her way over to the door.

Bucky smiled and gave her an awkward hug that she cut short, complaining that he needed a shower. “Nice to see you, too, Princess.”

Shuri turned to Darcy. “He says that to irritate me. I call him Sergeant to irritate him.”

She forced a smile at the younger woman. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

“Where are we?” Steve asked. “Is there anything that can be done? We can go to Chengdu, see if we can trace them from that location. Nat accessed the financial records Bucky gave to Ross but—”

“But we can’t make heads or tails of them, “ Sam said. “Does anyone know a good accountant?”

“Not one we can trust,” Tony said.

“Mr. Stark and I have developed an energy pulse that would disable—”

“Kid,” Tony interrupted. “My dad was Mr. Stark.”

She rolled her eyes at him and continued with, “It would disable the power sources.”

“But we don’t know where they are,” Tony said. “Once the Tower has some repairs done, we could send the pulse from there, but it wouldn’t reach much further than the coast of China to maybe Germany. That leaves a huge area of the world—”

“Shuri,” T’Challa said, “could we send it from Wakanda?”

She thought about it for a moment before she said, “With some adjustments to our shield. It’d probably need to be turned off for a moment.”

“Is that something that could be done?” Steve asked T’Challa.

Nodding, T’Challa said, “We’ll do what we can.”

* * *

**[September 16, 2018, 2:21am]**

He hadn’t said goodbye. Not really. The glance from across the room when shit had hit the fan wasn’t a goodbye, no matter how much emotion she could see in Bucky’s eyes. It was a look, a glance, a wordless acknowledgment. He’d rushed out the door with Steve, Natasha, Sam, T’Challa, and Rhodey within ten seconds of hearing that there were nine incoming objects in the air, flying from Montreal. They were small and the Air Force was scrambling jets to intercept them, but jets took time to get ready and get in the air. Plus, you couldn’t exactly fly a jet into Midtown. The general assessment was that they were coming back to hit Stark Tower again. Wanda and Vision were en route to meet them at the Tower.

Bucky’s phone was vibrating next to her, Ross’ name emblazoned on the screen. She almost didn’t answer it, but reconsidered by the third ring. Darcy accepted the call as she watched Tony strain to lean forward in his wheelchair to set the power source he’d built based on the specifications in their plans on the table. It glowed with a steady, vibrant blue light.

Instead of saying anything, she just held the phone up to her ear. “Barnes? Barnes, report downstairs immediately. We have a location in Montreal. Pick up in two minutes.” When she didn’t reply, Ross said, “Barnes? Move your ass!”

“This is his wife. Bucky isn’t here.”

“Darcy,” Ross said, “this is a matter of life or death. You need to get him downstairs. Now.”

She desperately wanted to tell him she was onto his games and he could shove those half-truths up his ass, but if Tony and Shuri’s solution didn’t work, then she’d have tipped their hand to the biggest threat they had in this country. “He’s with Steve. We were visiting Tony when they heard about the objects. They’re on their way to Stark Tower. Is that where the objects are headed?”

Darcy heard something shatter a moment before Ross said. “He was to follow my orders. I need him in Montreal.”

“How is he supposed to explain that to them? When are you going to stop sending him on these missions?” she demanded. “He almost died last time. I’m sick of it.”

“This is a matter of national—”

“He’s _not here_,” she interrupted. “Call Steve Rogers.”

Disconnecting, Darcy looked up at Tony and Shuri. They were both staring at the screen projected in the air over the table. Pepper had left to make calls to the Tower in an attempt to have as many people evacuated from the building as possible. Whatever was coming would be there within minutes. The only blessing was that it was in the early hours of the morning and the building was mostly empty because of the damage from a few days before.

She clasped her hands together and made her way over to the table. “Will it work? Please tell me it will work.” He hadn’t said goodbye. What if he died out there? What if he died and all she would ever have of him was two months of friendship and a dreamlike day of sex in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The first guy she’d ever felt _like that_ about. The first guy she’d ever wanted to put a ring on for, fake or not.

“They’re almost ready,” Shuri told Tony, ignoring Darcy’s question, looking between the screen and a small device in her hand. “A minute, no more than two.”

“We can’t wait, kid. If they aren’t here yet, then they will be,” Tony said.

“Just… a few more seconds.”

As soon as the words were out of Shuri’s mouth a massive blast or crash could be heard in the distance. “Oh, fuck, fuck fuck,” Darcy said, rushing over to the window. They were facing south, though, and she was unable to see Stark Tower jutting up out of the skyline.

“Are they ready?” Tony asked, his voice sharp. “That could have been the broadcasting amplifier on top of the Tower falling to the ground. We need to go.”

“Ten seconds,” Shuri said. “My team in Wakanda is deactivating the shield to send the pulse.

“Kid, you’re killing me.”

“Patience, old man.”

“Fresh out,” Tony said, finger hovering over the button.

“Do it,” Darcy urged him. “Just do it.” Sirens were everywhere now. Two fire trucks and a police car rushed down the street, headed toward Midtown.

“Three, two…” Shuri said. Darcy turned around just as she said, “One.” Tony jammed his finger down on the button.

For a moment, there was nothing and then Darcy felt the hairs on her arms stand up. She looked down at the power source Tony had built to find it no longer glowed a brilliant blue. Now it was just a wad of glass and metal. “Did it work?”

“Yes!” Shuri said, throwing an arm in the air and twirling around in victory.

“Did it—”

“Yeah, it… worked,” Tony told Darcy. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Shuri had a wide grin on her face when she said, “Your lack of faith is disturbing.”

“Kid,” Tony said, dropping his face into his hand, “quoting Darth Vader at a time like this isn’t appropriate.”

* * *

**[September 16, 2018, 7:42am]**

Their apartment door had been broken down and their belongings scattered all over the floor. The other Avengers in the building had the same problem. It had Ross’ name all over it. The security cameras in the lobby had been knocked out just after midnight. The two security guards at the desk were both in the hospital, but—thankfully—not dead. Darcy suspected Ross had called in a team to toss the place for signs of disloyalty or maybe even to nab her after he’d called Bucky’s phone and realized Bucky was working with Steve, Tony, and the others to shut the suits down for good.

The landing pad that jutted out the side of Stark Tower to give it that iconic silhouette was in rubble on the ground below. It had destroyed part of two buildings across the street. There had been twelve deaths and fifty-nine injuries. It was a miracle, considering what had occurred.

“Is it safe here?” Bucky asked when Nat walked in their open apartment door.

“Building is clear. We swept it before you got here. I convinced one of Ross’ men to hand over mission directives. Those and a few other choice items were just sent to the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

“How did you manage that?” Darcy asked, stepping over coffee grounds scattered on the kitchen floor.

Nat smiled. “What? The mission directives? I asked nicely and then not-so-nicely.”

“Do you think this goes beyond Ross?” Bucky asked.

“No. I think Ross was doing this on his own. If any of them were aware; they’re well-insulated and there isn’t an easy way to tie it back to them. We’ll just have to watch our backs.”

“If there is one thing I’ve learned in the past few weeks, it’s that you guys are _always_ watching your backs,” Darcy said.

“That’s why it’s good to have people who can help watch yours,” Nat said. She stepped over an opened box of cereal on the floor. “Steve and the others are dealing with the HYDRA operatives. I suspect Ross’ days as Secretary of State are numbered.”

“This better be his _last_ day,” Darcy said, leaning back against the counter in the kitchen and surveying the mess.

“Might be.” Nat looked over at Bucky in the living room. “Debrief at ten. Conference room in Tony’s Tribeca building. We’re going to talk about what to do next. Rhodey made a couple of calls and the military is letting us take the lead with HYDRA’s men. They want the suits but the suits are useless without the power sources.”

“You should destroy them anyway.”

“The power sources? Oh, we did. Steve cracked them all in half with his shield just to be safe.”

Bucky shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked over the breakfast bar at Darcy. “I’ll be there at ten after I help Darcy clean up here.”

Nat nodded and said goodbye to Darcy before she left them alone in the apartment. Darcy was exhausted, but there was no way she could sleep. Her mind was running a million miles an hour. “You don’t have to help, you know.”

“I want to.” She watched him put the couch back into order by adjusted the seat cushions and retrieving the two throw pillows that belonged on it. Darcy swallowed all the questions she wanted to ask him and began throwing the food on the counters and floor into the trash can. In silence, she swept the crumbs from the cereal box into a corner as she blinked back tears. He hadn’t hugged her when they met back at the apartment. He hadn’t come within three feet of her since Tony and Shuri disabled the suits. She’d been so worried and he hadn’t even touched her.

“You okay?”

Darcy looked up, startled to find him right in front of her in the kitchen. She’d been so focused on the thoughts bouncing around in her head, she hadn’t even paid attention to where he was. “Yeah,” she said, hastily wiping away the moisture gathering on her lower lids before he saw she was on the verge of tears. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, trying to catch her eye. She avoided that as she leaned the broom against the counter. “I don’t think you should stay here tonight,” Bucky said.

She looked up at him, shocked at how much that statement felt like a punch to the gut. “You don’t want me around?”

“I don’t want you hurt. I don’t want them knowing where you are. Get a hotel and we can figure out something more permanent later.”

It felt like the end, and she wasn’t ready to give up their life together, even if it wasn’t perfect. She felt so stupid. She’d slept with him and now he obviously regretted it, no matter what he said to her about not really meaning what he’d said to Steve.

Looking at the floor between them, she said, “Why’d you sleep with me?”

If it were possible, Bucky seemed to get even more still. “What are you talking about?”

“I get why you kissed me. I mean, we were supposed to be putting on an act for whoever, but… You didn’t have to sleep with me. No one was watching.”

“No one was watching the first time I kissed you.”

“Ross was,” she told him.

Bucky glanced over. “No, he wasn’t. We were alone in the lake.”

“The day I came home early and Ross was there and I was going to kiss you on the cheek, but you turned and I got your lips. _That_ was our first kiss.”

He nodded. “Okay. Yeah. It didn’t feel like the first time, but if you… No one was watching the second time, then.”

“Then why’d you do it? Obviously, you regret it.” She swallowed the emotion crawling up her throat and threatening to make her voice waver. “You don’t have to do me any favors, you know. Just because you think I’m some lonely girl who reads romance novels and hasn’t fucked anything but a vibrator for a couple years doesn’t mean I want you to throw me a bone. I don’t—”

“Darcy,” he said, voice sharp and cutting off the torrent of words falling from her mouth. “I wasn’t doing you any favors and I don’t feel sorry for you. I— I just…” Bucky inhaled deeply. “Now isn’t the time. Can we talk about this later?”

“Is there anything to talk about? Was it just curiosity for you?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just… want to know where I stand with you. Maybe doing what we did…. Maybe it didnt fuck with your head, but it’s fucking with mine and I’m trying to figure out where I stand. Like, is this a fake marriage with benefits or a fake marriage with a mistake that shouldn’t happen again or—”

“We’re actually married, Darcy. The papers are real even if they were backdated in Wakanda.”

“You aren’t answering my question,” she said, sticking to her guns. Not knowing was driving her insane. She’d spent her life dodging emotional attachments and playing the role of the person who didn’t want to define things. Now, though, she needed a little definition for her sanity. “Is this over? Is that what’s happening?”

“Sweetheart, I…” He shook his head and turned away, running a hand roughly through his loose hair.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pushing past him to go into the bedroom. “You don’t want to talk about this now.”

“Doll,” he said, following behind her, but stopping in the doorway of the bedroom.

Darcy picked up her clothes scattered on the floor and placed them on the bed. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. I shouldn’t… It’s not important. I’ll… go get a room.”

“This isn’t me telling you I want you to get out. I’m trying to protect you.”

She stopped packing and looked up at him. “I was so scared you were going to die.”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he exhaled the breath of air in his lungs. “Sweetheart…”

Looking up at the ceiling, Darcy blinked away her tears again. “I’m so fucking stupid. I thought I could do this without… caring about you like _that_.”

“You care about me?”

Her laughter was loud and abrupt. “Really, dude? You’re going to ask that stupid question? Give me a break.”

“I’m telling you to find a hotel room because I care about you, too, Darcy.”

She looked over at him. He’d taken a couple of steps into the room and was standing across the bed from her. “You want me to text you the room number?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I want you safe until this blows over with Ross and we figure out how much HYDRA knows and what they are capable of.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you need to lay low and I need to figure things out.”

“It means you don’t want me around,” she snapped back.

“It _means_ I can’t deal with this and you at the same time,” he replied.

Darcy blew out a sharp breath of disbelief. “Wow. Yeah, okay. Go do your thing. See you when I see you.”

“I’ll text you.”

“Sure,” she said, shoving her unfolded clothes into her bag, eyes down so she didn’t have to look at him as he broke her heart. She shouldn’t have slept with him. It was such a monumental mistake. She shouldn’t have done so many things that opened her up to getting hurt like this. Lesson learned.

He walked over and reached out to take her left hand in his right. His skin was warm and conjured up memories of that hand in other more intimate places. She jerked away from him as if he’d burned her. Bucky made a move to reach out again but stopped himself. “Don’t use your real name. Pay with cash. Stay in the city and call me or Steve if you think you’re in danger.” When she didn’t respond or look him in the eyes, Bucky dipped his head down and said, “Okay, sweetheart?”

“Yep,” she replied.

“Be careful.”

“You, too,” she murmured. When Bucky leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, she slammed her eyes shut. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to be gentle when things were falling apart?

After he let go of her and backed out of the room, she sat on the edge of the bed and listened for the click of the front door shutting. Once she was alone, Darcy curled up on the bed and wiped away the tears that managed to find their way onto her cheeks. This part was over. He was well and truly back. He’d played a pivotal role in defeating HYDRA and saving who-knew-how-many people. His relationship with Tony was on more solid ground now that they’d managed to help one another. He was working and had a therapist and didn’t need a buffer any longer. She was unnecessary and he probably realized that as soon as the weight of Ross and HYDRA was lifted a few hours earlier.

Now he could move on with his life. His _real_ life with _real_ relationships that didn’t involve some stupid girl who thought she was helping him. Staying so he could nail the coffin shut on their _relationship_ would strip her of what little dignity she had left.

After a few minutes of resting, Darcy finished packing and rummaged around in the kitchen before she found a small notepad.

**** ****_Bucky—_  
You don’t need me to play your buffer or your wife now that you’ve saved the world from HYDRA (and the rest of us from Ross). From the bottom of my heart, I’m so happy for you, and I think the right thing to do is to let you go. Tell Steve to stop the monthly deposits and tell Tony not to worry about my loans. Here’s the ring back. I hope you find someone you want to give it to someday.  
Love, D

She wiped the tears from her face again before pulling the wedding ring off her hand and laying it on top of the note. Quickly, before she could change her mind, Darcy slipped her shoes on and slung her overnight bag over her shoulder. She made one more round through the apartment, shoving her other belongings inside it before pulling it and her rolling luggage out the front door and down the hall.

The floor was empty and the lobby had a temporary guard on duty. He nodded at her as she left, flashing a smile she didn’t have it in her to return. Two blocks down, she stopped to check her phone. She needed to find a room. Maybe a place across the river in Brooklyn would be more affordable. She didn’t have a ton of cash to spend on a hotel in Manhattan.

It took her much too long to struggle with her oversized rolling luggage and the bulging bag as she descended the steps to the subway. The morning commute had died down a bit now that it was after ten, but there were still so many people around.

“Excuse me,” a man said, bumping into her bag as he walked past. Darcy turned to look at him, but when she opened her mouth to tell him to watch where he was going, something smashed down on her mouth and nose. Noxious fumes filled her nostrils and she instinctively reached up to claw at the hand on her face. The hand was firm and unyielding. The man who had bumped her circled back around and stood in front of her.

“You okay?” he asked, emotionless eyes watching as she drowned and the edges of her vision turned grey, then black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now is probably a good time to remind you that I only do happy endings. Bucky will fix his attitude and find her. I promise.
> 
> If you'd like to console yourself with my playlist of songs that inspired me while I was writing this fic, then you can check out the YouTube playlist [[HERE](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2o_A-FR3X3BNCssFT8whpHDbo0hu1JCQ)] or the Spotify playlist [[HERE](https://open.spotify.com/user/zephrbabe/playlist/1cCLWWDILYHyAHXS3ZCcJS?si=Ctt1_TjwSCWGxfnO9IRiQw)] or the Tidal playlist [[HERE](https://tidal.com/browse/playlist/3bdbe14c-c513-4f0e-a48b-9ad78ee25abf)]. A huge thank you to [zephrbabe](https://zephrbabe.tumblr.com/) for the assistance with the Spotify playlist since I don't have an account.


	28. Chapter 28

> _”Your arms in mine, anytime. Wouldn’t trade anything, you’re still my everything. To my surprise, before my eyes, you arrive. Don’t worry, I’ll catch you.” - The Get Up Kids (I’ll Catch You)_

**[September 16, 2018, 1:57pm]**

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, Sergeant Barnes.”

He looked up to see Shuri walking down the hall. He was slumped over in a chair along the wall with his mind on Darcy instead of the interrogations.

“I’ve been busy,” he told her.

Shuri sat down beside him. “My brother is taking me to eat at an American restaurant this evening.”

Bucky chuckled. “American, huh? Burgers and fries?”

“Yes. You and Darcy should come with us. Everything has been moving so fast since we arrived; I haven’t even talked to her much.”

He didn’t need Shuri to bring Darcy to the forefront of his thoughts. Darcy lived there almost all the time lately. The memory of pulling her up against his body so he could surround himself with the space between her thighs was vivid and heady. So was the sensation of being inside her as he kissed her lips, breathing in her sighs of pleasure. Those memories were now linked with the strained interactions they’d had since everything and everyone else intruded into their lives—the other Avengers, HYDRA, Ross, missions and fighting and death. He wanted those quiet moments in their apartment back even if he couldn’t recreate the moments in the lakeside cabin.

“I don’t think going out to dinner is a good idea right now. HYDRA might be out for the count, but Ross still needs to be dealt with. We don’t know how far this goes or who Ross might be answering to.”

“You think he’s HYDRA?”

“No, I think he’s self-serving government. I just don’t know if he’s rogue and calling the shots to make a power grab or if there are other people in power involved. Natasha sent data to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. We’ll see what their play is.”

“Then where is Darcy?” Shuri asked.

Darcy was exactly where she needed to be. Hidden and away from the danger that swirled around him. If the buck didn’t stop at Ross, then he needed to find a way to remove himself from her life for her safety. “She’s somewhere in the city. I told her to find a temporary spot to hide in until things blow over.”

“Well, where is she?”

“I can’t say.”

Shuri seemed hurt. “You don’t trust me?”

Bucky smiled at her. “Of course I trust you, Princess. I just don’t know where Darcy is. We thought it would be better if I didn’t.”

“We? She left you?”

“Well, I told her to.”

Shuri scrunched her face up like what he’d said was distasteful. “And she was okay with just running off and hiding somewhere without you?”

“Not exactly,” he said as he remembered her questions and the look in her eyes when he’d insisted.

The two of them sat there for a moment in silence before Shuri said, “What’s going to happen with you two now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Assuming General Ross is dealt with and your amnesty isn’t in question. What happens?”

He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. “She could divorce me, I guess. I’ll pay off her student loans with the payments I received from Ross for his missions. She could get back to her life.”

“I thought you liked each other,” Shuri replied.

“We do,” he said, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. Bucky focused on the ground between his boots. “But just because we like each other doesn’t mean anything was real.”

“Oh.” Shuri sounded disappointed. “I was… hoping that you two would… end up together. You know? Like a movie?”

“This ain’t a movie, Princess.”

“Speak for yourself, Sergeant. I like to conduct my life as if I’m in a movie.”

“That’s because you’re weird,” he shot back, looking over at her.

“Watch your mouth, Barnes. People might not realize that when you say weird you mean I am the coolest and smartest person you know.”

Bucky chuckled at her response. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“_Yes_. I love secrets.”

“I think I’m in love with her.” It sounded so silly to say it out loud like that. He’d built the feeling up in his head to be some complicated mess of emotions wrapped up in obligations and fears. And yet, when it came out of his mouth, it sounded so simple, so easy. He was in love with a woman and wanted to spend more time with her, wanted her to be part of his life. He sat up and leaned back in his chair, slumping down slightly.

“Oh, wow. _Wow_. That’s a juicy secret. I was not prepared.” Shuri stood up, hands on hips. “Have you told Darcy?”

“No.”

“Are you freaking _kidding_ me? She doesn’t know how you feel? Get out of here you, idiot. Go find her.”

He shook his head. “I can’t ask her to change her life for me like that. A year was all she agreed to. I’m… This isn’t an easy life. You know that.”

“You think she doesn’t feel the same way?” Shuri asked.

Bucky shrugged. “I think she cares about me.”

“Do you think she loves you?”

Darcy’s voice from their argument earlier replayed in his head. She’d said she’d thought she could play the role of a fake wife without caring about him like _that_, implying that she’d been wrong. The emphasis on the word “that” and the anguished tone in her voice sent his thoughts careening down a heady path of hopes and dreams he hadn’t let himself indulge in. “I don’t know.”

“So, yes?” Shuri asked.

“What?”

“If you’re saying you don’t know then that probably means there’s a good chance she loves you.”

Bucky gave a nervous laugh. “Is that how it goes?”

“That’s how it goes with you. If you didn't think there was a chance, you’d have told me she doesn’t feel that way. So, when are you going to go get her?”

“I can’t, Shuri.”

“Stop being a wet blanket, Sergeant,” Shuri said. She opened her mouth to continue, but Steve and Sam were walking down the hall toward them.

“Any news?” he asked.

“Ross was arrested twenty minutes ago at Dulles. They’re still looking for two of his aides, but… he’s done.” Steve rested his hands on his belt.

“What was he arrested for?”

Sam smiled. “Seditious conspiracy.”

“What?” Shuri asked.

“Trying to overthrow the government,” Bucky told her. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “The Joint Chiefs and the President seem to have no knowledge of what he was trying to do. The missions he ran with you were off the books. He had a couple of key people in the Department of Defense in his pocket to make it easier to access the resources he needed to track down the suits and how they were being produced.”

“So, China really was funding HYDRA?”

“A faction in the Chinese government,” Steve agreed. “Tony’s tech is a hot commodity. He thinks a former research scientist who worked with him five or six years ago might have taken the plans and copies of his notes and sold them to HYDRA. HYDRA found funding with China and started to produce the suits. Ross saw it happening and thought he could use you to get the suits or details on how they were being made, which would give him a hell of a lot more power.”

“He _did_ use me,” Bucky said.

“Tried to,” Steve agreed. “But he’s in custody and is probably going to spend the rest of his life in jail because you figured it out and stopped him.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did,” Shuri and Sam said at the same time.

“Where’s Darcy?” Steve asked, looking up and down the hall. “She back at the apartment?”

Bucky’s stomach twisted up inside his body. “I sent her away to protect her until Ross was sorted out. He tossed all our apartments looking for info. I didn’t think it was safe.”

“Well, go get her,” Steve said. “Tell her she’s got the all-clear to come back to the apartment for now.”

“For now,” Bucky echoed.

Steve tilted his head to the side. “For now, what?”

“The marriage was for Ross and his henchmen. If they aren’t around, then…”

Steve furrowed his brows, confusion settling onto his face. “What are you talking about? I thought you two were… I found you in bed with—” He cut himself off when he realized they had an audience that included Shuri.

“_What_?” Shuri said, honing in on that last comment. “You’re sleeping with her?”

“I took advantage of the situation and how caring she is,” Bucky told everyone before turning his back on them.

“Is that what she thinks or what you think?” Sam asked him.

“It doesn’t matter what she thinks.”

“You absolute idiot,” Shuri told him, marching down the hall and walking around him so she could look at his face. “Did you just hear the words that came out of your mouth?” She lifted her right hand, middle finger extended, and gave him that look of hers that was filled with attitude. “That’s for Darcy. Didn’t you just tell me you thought she might love you?”

“What?” Steve asked.

Bucky sighed. “I said I don’t know how she feels.” It was a little bit of a lie. He knew Darcy cared for him despite thinking she was crazy to feel that way. He’d felt it in the way she’d kissed him and the way she’d wrapped her legs around him and even the way she’d laid her head on his shoulder when they watched television at night.

“Why don’t you ask her before making assumptions?” Sam asked.

Bucky turned to face Steve and Sam. “This was supposed to be a job for her. I fucked that up. I made it personal.”

Several beats passed with no response. Bucky shook his head and walked down the hall. He entered one of the empty offices and shut the door. The light was off, but the sun was bright outside today. It lit up the room all on its own. He sat down on the desk and stared at the blank wall in front of him.

It _was_ supposed to be a job for her, but she’d always been so caring, so sweet to him. Bucky wished he knew whether she was like that for _him_ or if she’d have been that way for anyone. Was what happened a byproduct of the situation or because they were actually meant for each other? It was so difficult to extract what felt so real from all the baggage that hung off it.

The door opened a crack. “Can I come in?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded but didn’t reply.

Keeping his mouth shut, Steve walked over and sat down next to him on the desk. “The HYDRA soldiers we apprehended when the suits failed… They won’t give up any info on where HYDRA is operating out of. They have to have a location near Montreal. We’re working with the Canadian government to see if there has been unusual activity in that area. There are probably at least two other bases of operations, knowing them.”

Bucky nodded again.

“Wanda is on her way to see if she can help get it out of them,” Steve said. They’d left her at Stark Tower so she and Vision could help clear away the debris that had broken off the top of the building.

“Let me know where the bases are when you find them. I’ll go in with you,” Bucky replied.

Steve nodded. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry for trying to push you two together like that. It wasn’t any of my business.”

Bucky’s smile felt bittersweet. “You didn’t do anything wrong, punk. You were right; she’s perfect. No one else could have gotten me through this. And now I’m here and I helped and it feels good to be able to do that.”

“I think she cares about you, Buck. I really do. She don’t seem like the kind of dame who would treat you the way she has just because she feels like she has to. She ain’t shy or anything, you know?”

“I know.”

“She’s at least your friend. Treating her like she was an employee…”

Bucky looked up at the ceiling. “I know. It’s just… easier. It’s easier to say it was just because she was getting paid and not because she actually wants anything from me. Because I don’t know if I have anything to give.”

“We all disagree. Go out there and ask Sam and Shuri if they think you don’t have anything to offer your friends.”

“I don’t have anything to offer a woman I love like _that_,” Bucky replied as he closed his eyes and tried to convince all that tension in his chest to dissipate.

“You in love with her?” When Bucky didn’t reply, Steve must have taken his silence for confirmation because he said, “Why don’t you ask her?”

“Ask her what?”

“To marry you. For real this time.”

Bucky looked over at his best friend. “Are you kidding me, punk?”

Steve smiled. “What? It can’t be crazier than faking a marriage to get amnesty. Worst she can say is no. That’ll leave you in the same spot as you are now—miserable and without your girl.”

“Worst would be her getting hurt or killed because of me.”

“She knows what she’s getting into, Buck. She’s not stupid.”

“I know that.”

“So, ask her and let her decide for herself. That way you know for sure if she’s here because of you or because of the money.”

Bucky’s laugh was harsh, but still soft enough that it didn’t carry. “You sound real sure that she’s here for me.”

“Oh, I know she’s here for you. After she spoke to you via the holographic com that day, she called me and said she’d do it. She didn’t care about the money. She was always here for you, but maybe you’ll believe her if you don’t believe me. Go ask.”

“I can’t just… propose.”

“You need a ring?” Steve asked with a smirk.

Bucky bent his thumb in so he could fiddle with the wedding ring on his right finger. “I need some fuckin’ nerve is what I need.”

“Ross is under control. We’ve got HYDRA on the run. Go get your girl.” Steve stood up and sauntered out of the room like he knew every word he’d said was true.

What if it was because of her mother? They’d talked about that, though. She’d admitted the mistake and she’d been talking to a therapist. Besides, could she really do all those things they’d done in the bed of that cabin if it was just… guilt? It hadn’t felt like guilt and obligation when she’d looked at him right before he’d kissed her all those times. It felt like…

“What are you going to do?”

Bucky jerked his head up to see Shuri in the door. “I don’t know.”

“What do you want to do?”

He answered with the first thing that popped in this head. “Ask her to marry me for real.”

She smiled. It was big and full of joy and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Good answer,” Shuri told him.

* * *

**[September 16, 2018, 5:55pm]**

The box was heavy in his pocket. He was hyper-aware of it as he adjusted the baseball cap on his head and dialed her number. Shuri had insisted on going with him to three jewelry stores before he decided on an engagement ring he thought might sway Darcy in his favor. She was equal parts classic and unique and he tried to find a ring that was the same. It was easy to get caught up in the fantasy of a real life with her while he was imagining all those rings on her finger. T’Challa had come along as his sister’s bodyguard, even though Shuri rolled her eyes at the thought. The two of them had just left to find cheap burgers and fries or, as she liked to call them, American food.

Darcy’s phone rang four times before going to voicemail. He hasn’t prepared a speech, so he hung up. Worry set in as he realized for the first time in hours that he’d left things very poorly with Darcy that morning. He’d made her _cry_, told her to leave. Basically, he’d told her that he didn’t want to deal with their situation right then even though she was asking him for answers. She’d been asking him if what they had was _real_. And he’d refused to talk about it. What the fuck had he even said to her? Everything in the past few days was a blur.

He called her again and listened to her sweet voice on the voicemail message. When the tone sounded, he said, “Hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry about this morning. I was worried about you and what Ross might try to do after tossing our apartment. Can you call me or text me where you are? I, uh, I wanna talk. I have a question for you.” He swallowed the “love you,” that wanted to come right out of his mouth and hung up.

She still hadn’t called by the time he got back to the apartment. Bucky started picking up the belongings still scattered on the floor before he noticed the note on the counter. His heart sank into the floor when he saw her wedding band on top of her looping, messy writing.

**** ****_Bucky—  
You don’t need me to play your buffer or your wife now that you’ve saved the world from HYDRA (and the rest of us from Ross). From the bottom of my heart, I’m so happy for you, and I think the right thing to do is to let you go. Tell Steve to stop the monthly deposits and tell Tony not to worry about my loans. Here’s the ring back. I hope you find someone you want to give it to someday.  
Love, D_

He slipped her wedding ring over the tip of his index finger, rubbing the smooth metal with the pad of his thumb as he forced himself to read the painful note a second time. She had left him. He felt like vomiting. Hours ago, he was prepared to let her go, but now he couldn’t breathe from the pain of her leaving.

All Bucky could hear in his head were his exhales that felt like all the life leaving his body. The box with her engagement ring was like a brand through the material of his jeans against his thigh. He grabbed onto the counter for support, his thumb slipping under the edge of the marble. His thoughts shifted quickly from heartache to alarm when he felt a bump right there over his thumb. It was a listening device, no doubt. He’d been careless and hadn’t swept the room after it had been ransacked. He’d just assumed the security team had swept the apartments for everything. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The question now was whether anyone was listening or would care now that Ross was being charged. Who had access to the bug?

Carefully, he pinched it between the vibranium thumb and forefinger before detaching it from the marble. Bucky felt his world cave in when he looked down and saw something terrifyingly familiar. It wasn’t one of Ross’ bugs. It was one he’d seen many times over during his time with HYDRA.

As panic set in and his mind started racing, he pulled out his phone and called Darcy. Voicemail again. “Darcy, please call me, sweetheart. Please. I need to know you’re safe. You don’t have to talk to me or tell me where you are. I just need to know you’re okay. Call me. _Please_.”

His next call was to Steve. When Steve answered, Bucky said, “We have a problem. Ross wasn’t the one who broke into the building.”

“I know,” Steve replied. “Wanda just pulled it out of one of their men. The others didn’t know, but their team leader had knowledge of the plan to toss our places to find something they could use against us while we were distracted.”

“They’ve been watching us,” Bucky said, dread building in his stomach.

Steve paused before saying, “Yeah, seems like.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “You okay?”

“No. I don’t know where Darcy is. She… she left a note and her ring and she’s gone. She ain’t answering her phone, Steve.”

“Okay,” Steve said, voice dropping as his mind went into mission mode. “Do you know where she would have gone? Just because she’s not there doesn’t mean she’s in danger. You said she left her ring.”

“Yeah, she said she’s leaving me so I can live my life or what-the-fuck-ever. I don’t care about that as long as she’s safe.” His mind was running so fast as he considered places she’d go. He had no idea. No clue where her family was or if she had friends in the area. Here he was getting ready to propose to her and he hadn’t even bothered to learn the most basic things about her because he was selfish and all of this had been about him. “I don’t know where she’d go, Steve,” Bucky admitted. “I don’t know.”

“Nat’s trying to call her now,” Steve said. Bucky waited with bated breath until Steve said, “No answer, but it’s ringing. We’re gonna try to track it. Meet us over here.” Before Bucky could hang up, Steve said, “And Buck? Be careful, yeah? We don’t know what they’re planning.”

* * *

**[September 26, 2018, 3:37am]**

He hadn’t had good, solid rest in days. The last time he remembered sleeping peacefully was when she’d been in bed with him. After they’d had sex; before she’d overheard him tell Steve that it was nothing. That had been almost two weeks ago. Now, each time his head hit a pillow, he thought about Darcy and what they were doing do her. If she was hurt or cold or hungry. If she had a bed to sleep in or if they had forced her to sleep on the floor like they’d done to him. The rage and despair were building in equal parts. The argument—if it could even be called that—he’d had with her days ago seemed so silly and so inconsequential now. That fear of telling her how he really felt, that fear over her getting too close, it all paled in comparison to the fear he was living with of finding her dead or dying or not even finding her at all. Even his fear over asking her to marry him seemed downright stupid.

They’d found her busted phone in the subway a few blocks from the apartment. The security footage obtained from the transit authority showed her abduction by five agents, all of whom had placed themselves so their faces weren’t clearly visible or who had worn masks. Darcy had fought hard before the chemical they’d forced her to breathe in had rendered her unconscious. The image of her throwing out her hands and kicking at the man in front of her as someone else pulled her out of the frame was seared into his brain. He’d only watched the video once and he couldn’t forget.

Steve and the others had watched it multiple times, analyzing and drawing conclusions, yet they had no leads. Bucky had tried to dig up information on his own when he’d gone into one of the holding cells and nearly killed the team leader they’d captured. That had been the day after she’d disappeared. He’d lost control and beaten the man into a coma in an attempt to get information. Steve and Sam had stopped him from finishing the HYDRA soldier off along with the rest of them.

Bucky sat up when the door opened and Steve stepped into the small bedroom they’d been sharing during the search for Darcy. “We have something. They sent a video. She’s alive.” Steve’s jaw was tight and his eyes were icy. The video must not be good. Bucky wanted to bend over and heave up the meager amount of food he’d forced himself to eat at dinner.

Instead, he stood and followed Steve down the hall to a conference room. Tony was walking around the conference room like he’d never even been injured thanks to his nanotechnology. Natasha was sitting in a chair, but her eyes were on the image hovering above the table. The video was paused to show a disheveled Darcy with messy hair and pale skin. There were dark circles under eyes that looked terrified. The bruise on her neck looked like a handprint and there was a red gash from her collarbone down into the neckline of her shirt. She was tied to a chair by her arms and legs. Bucky felt the air leave his lungs, but couldn’t figure out how to pull another breath in. He stumbled forward and caught himself on the conference table.

“What do they want?” Bucky asked.

Natasha unpaused the video and a man stepped into the frame. His face was covered with a ski mask. “We’ll trade her for Barnes,” he said. “Or we’ll keep her for ourselves.” The man turned to Darcy and said, “Tell them to save you, honey.”

The video was pixelated and of poor quality, but he could still see the tears in her eyes when she said, “Bucky, please don’t do anything stupid. _Please_. I just want to be home. I just want… a nice cup of my favorite coffee. Okay, Bucky? Okay? Please understand.”

The man walked behind her and grabbed a handful of her hair. She cried out in pain and then pressed her lips together to keep from making another sound. “When you’re ready to deliver him, you can reach us by broadcasting on this channel. We’ll make arrangements then. Our patience is limited. You have twenty-four hours to respond.”

“What was that about the coffee?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied. “Have Shuri or Vision had any luck tracking the signal?”

Natasha glanced at her phone. “No. They said it was bounced off too many satellites. Besides, it could have been broadcast from a different location than they’re holding her.”

“We have a list of possibilities, though,” Tony said, hands flat on the table and he leaned forward. “When we sent the pulse out, we captured where all the signals were coming from. Presumably, where the power sources were being made or held.”

Steve shook his head. “We can’t hit multiple locations at once. There are over ten places on the list. There aren’t enough of us. And if they catch wind that we’re moving on them, then they could hurt her.”

“We just need to knock a few off the list, then,” Tony said. “What do you say you and I go do a little reconnaissance, Romanoff?”

“Four places,” a voice at the door said. Bucky glanced over his shoulder to see Shuri. She had a tablet in her hand and looked like she’d had only an hour or two more sleep than Bucky. “I used Wakanda’s communications network to search the locations for activity—heat signatures and movement for the most part.”

“And?” Steve asked, hands on his hips.

Bucky’s mind felt like it was buzzing. “Is one of them in Turkey?” he asked.

“Actually, yeah. Saint-Esprit in Quebec, Warsaw in Poland, Istanbul in Turkey, and Harbin in China.” Shuri made a motion with her hand and the tablet projected a world map into the air in front of her. The four locations were marked with red dots. “The other six locations are dead. They might still have supplies there, but no activity.” When she looked up at the image of Darcy hovering over the conference table, Shuri’s face fell. “Oh, no,” she said.

“She’s alive,” Natasha said.

Shuri seemed to shake off whatever despair she was feeling and said, “Okay, so we need to move then.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Bucky said.

“She’s my friend!” Shuri said.

“She’s everyone’s friend,” Natasha said. “Let’s figure out how we can hit all these places at once.”

Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about the fear in Darcy’s eyes in the video. He couldn’t stop hearing her voice say that she just wanted her favorite coffee. What a bizarre thing to say at a time like that.

“Play it again,” he told Natasha.

“What?” Tony asked.

“The video. Play it again.”

Tony leaned forward and hit a button. The video replayed.

“Bucky, please don’t do anything stupid. _Please_. I just want to be home. I just want… a nice cup of my favorite coffee. Okay, Bucky? Okay? Please understand.”

He turned to Shuri, who looked sick to her stomach. “Turkey, right?”

“Istanbul. About eighty kilometers west of Istanbul.”

“What is it, Buck?” Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head. “Just… the way she said that. At first, I thought she was telling me not to run or attack them because they’d kill her. I thought she was asking me to understand why she was telling me to turn myself in, but…”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Shuri said.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. “She was asking me to understand something else, I think.”

“What?” Tony asked. “That she wants coffee?”

“That her favorite coffee is Turkish coffee. She… she loves it but won’t make it for herself. Says it’s too much trouble. I made it for her when we got away a couple of weeks ago.”

“So, we go to Turkey,” Tony said, pushing off the table.

“If we’re wrong, then she could die,” Steve said. The statement made Bucky’s stomach curdle. If he was wrong about the point she was trying to make, then he’d be responsible for her death. He bore the weight of taking so many lives, but this one would be the worst because it was the woman he loved. “Bucky?” Steve said, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“What?” Bucky asked.

Nat was standing in front of him. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t know.”

“The message was for you. She said that to _you_,” Nat told him.

He shook his head. “I can’t… It has to be Turkey. She said she wanted her favorite coffee.”

“Let’s go, then,” Tony said, walking past them and clapping Bucky on the shoulder like they were teammates. Maybe could even be friends one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter and the epilogue will be posted tomorrow! See you at the end!


	29. Chapter 29

> _”So come on, get higher, loosen my lips. Faith and desire and the swing of your hips. Just pull me down hard and drown me in love.” - Matt Nathanson (Come On Get Higher)_

**[September 21, 2018, 10:02pm**

She’d lost all track of time. She didn’t know what day it was or if it was night or day beyond the thick concrete walls of the cell they’d been keeping her in since she arrived. Her first memory upon regaining consciousness had been being jostled around in the trunk of a car. She’d struggled against the restraints, kicking at the spot where the trunk latch was. It was all for nothing. A few minutes later, she’d been pulled out of the trunk in brilliant daylight. She’d blinked to adjust to the brightness, but by the time she could see, they’d grabbed her and shoved her onto the floor of a conversion van without windows. They’d injected her with something and it had been lights out until she’d woken in the cargo hold of an old plane. Each time they had moved her and dosed her with drugs to keep her quiet and compliant, Darcy had tried to gather information.

She’d only been successful in seeing anything when she feigned unconsciousness upon waking. They probably thought she was clueless about their location. She was almost certain she was in Turkey from the signs she’d glimpsed on the way to this massive building in a nearly-abandoned industrial area over an hour outside of the airport. She wasn’t positive she was right, but she’d attempted to tell Bucky in a way that wouldn’t seem obvious. They wouldn’t have transmitted the recording if she’d screamed out the name of the country. Now, she just hoped that Bucky got the reference to Turkish coffee and that the Avengers could find the base of operations.

The men all wore dark uniforms, most of them with patches of the HYDRA insignia on them. How the hell did they find her? How did they even know who she was? She’d been so careful and had only been out with Bucky in public a handful of times.

They’d threatened her with torture and death. Some of the men had eyed her in ways that made Darcy’s skin crawl, but the worst of it was the waiting. Well, the waiting and the man who slipped into her cell two, three, four days ago and tried to strangle her while he pawed at her chest. When he’d moved down to pull at her pants, she’d bitten him and shoved her knee up into his junk with all the force she could muster. His wails of pain brought the others in and they dragged him out. The man in charge had a Russian accent, and she heard him tell the men in the hallway that they couldn’t touch her until after they gave the Avengers a chance to turn over Bucky. The implication was that she was fair game if their demands weren’t met. Darcy had thrown up in the corner when she’d realized that.

Now she was curled up on a thin blanket, her hip numb from the chill of the hard concrete floor. She was so thirsty, but she’d already drunk the cup of tepid water she received with each meal. It had a vaguely metallic taste and she was afraid to look at it in the light of day. Which was funny because there wasn’t any daylight in the concrete room with the reinforced steel door. This was also funny. A few days after arriving when she’d felt delirious and hopeless, she’d laughed at the idea they’d decided to keep her behind a steel door like she was a threat. Like she stood a chance of breaking out of this prison.

How long had it been since they’d made her record the message to the Avengers? It felt like days. Two, three, five? She’d been there at least a week, maybe three. If she could just see outside, then she could count the hours properly. They’d given Bucky twenty-four hours to make the exchange. She hoped he didn’t. They’d probably keep her anyway. These men were vicious and hateful and used rules and protocol as an excuse to be cruel.

Maybe he would understand what she’d meant. Maybe Tony had fancy technology that would hone in on her location. Maybe she would be rescued. Darcy pressed her forehead to the blanket, feeling the chilly concrete below and cried softly.

She felt the floor shake a fraction of a second before she heard the blast. It was muffled and through so many layers of concrete and steel, but it was there. A moment later, she heard radios crackling and boots outside her cell in the hallway. She got up and backed herself in the corner of the room furthest from the door, holding her breath the entire time. Darcy’s mind was racing, trying to come up with explanations, trying not to get her hopes up too high because the chances of rescue were so very low. When she’d been abducted, they’d had no idea where HYDRA’s bases were.

“Fall back!” a man yelled right before a torrent of gunfire was unleashed. It was far away, but it kicked her heartbeat into double-time.

What felt like minutes passed, but it was probably only sixty seconds before the door was jerked open and the man with the Russian accent burst into the room with a pistol in his right hand. He advanced on her, and Darcy screamed as she jumped to the side to evade him. He caught her shirt, ripping it as he threw her back into the corner, She hit the wall hard and lost her sense of direction as he grabbed for her again. He brought the gun up to her head, but she ducked and batted it away while she brought a knee up to his groin. Her kneecap connected with his balls at the same time the gun went off and blew chunks of the wall all over her. She screamed at the shower of dust and jagged bits of concrete.

“You fucking bitch,” the man said, leveling his gun on her. Darcy held out her hands and closed her eyes. Her ears were still ringing from the first shot, and yet she heard the second clear as day. Except, she didn’t feel any pain or impact or blood.

Darcy opened her eyes and saw her assailant on his stomach with half his skull missing. She quickly looked away and right into the face of Bucky Barnes. He was in the doorway with a rifle held loosely in his right hand and a look of absolute fury on his face.

“Bucky,” she said, her voice breaking on his name. She’d never in her life been happier to see someone. He looked like the most beautiful angel standing there. Darcy propelled herself forward and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. Bucky pulled in a sharp breath of surprise before wrapping his left arm around her and walking both of them back into the corner of the room.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m so fucking glad to see you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. I was so scared.” She felt like her entire body was shaking, and she had no idea what was coming out of her mouth because it was a stream of consciousness. “Please don’t leave me here. I love you so much. Please don’t—”

“I love you, too,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m not leaving you ever again, but you gotta stay right here for me. This isn’t over.”

Darcy nodded, clutching onto him. “Okay. Wait, you love me?”

Bucky extracted himself from her arms. “You love me?” he asked.

“Of course I fucking do,” she replied.

“Then, of course, I fucking do, too,” he repeated, giving her a little smile. It looked odd on him at that moment with the tactical gear and the stern face and the blood splatter.

Darcy gasped when he whirled around to face two men who had just entered the room. One of them brought his gun up to shoot, but Bucky blocked the bullet with his left arm and it ricocheted into the ceiling. She blinked and Bucky was gone. Another blink and he was on the two men, ripping the gun out of the shooter’s hands and snapping his neck with one arm while he kicked the other man so hard in the chest he flew back and hit the wall with enough force to crack it.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Bucky said, looking over at her.

Darcy shook her head. “Why? You’re saving me.”

“I didn’t want you to see me like this. Don’t want you to be scared.” He stepped into the hallway and smashed a man’s head into the open steel door before stepping back inside.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days. I’m definitely not scared of you,” Darcy told him. “Just… can we have a smaller blood splash radius?”

He walked over to her and reached out to take her face in his hand. “I was so worried about you, Darcy. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. This is all my fault. I was careless.”

Three men entered the room, guns leveled on Bucky. One of them barked an order in another language—maybe Russian. Bucky turned and went after them. They scattered so he couldn’t reach all of them. Darcy opened her mouth to scream at Bucky in warning when the one furthest from him lined him up in the sights of the gun. Bucky was too busy dispatching the other two men. She lunged toward the gunman to stop him, but she never got there. A bright burst of red light smacked the man in the shoulder and chest. He crumpled to the ground.

Darcy and Bucky looked up at the doorway to see Tony Stark in his suit. He retracted the head of it and raised his brows. “Hey, good clue, kid. Worked like a charm.”

“What?” Darcy asked.

“Turkish coffee,” Tony said.

Bucky nodded at the man. “Thank you, Stark.”

Tony shrugged. “We’re even now, yeah?”

Letting out a breathy laugh, Bucky said, “Nah, I might still owe you one.”

* * *

[September 22, 2018, 4:52am]

Darcy had no opinion about where they went other than somewhere safe with a shower and a bed and Bucky. She could give up the shower or the bed, but she wasn’t compromising on him. Bucky seemed to have no problem with that, although he’d been quiet while Steve, Tony, and the others locked down the warehouse HYDRA had been using as a base of Operations. When the time had come to leave, Bucky had asked T’Challa if they could return to Wakanda with him for a few days while Steve and Natasha finished dealing with the Ross situation in the states.

T’Challa had agreed without question and they’d spent the next hour on his aircraft with Shuri, who was none too happy to have been left behind while the others had fought HYDRA. She had been, however, very happy to see Darcy. Darcy caught up with her and told Shuri what had happened during the two weeks she’d been held by HYDRA. Bucky listened as he sat beside her, but he made no comments. Darcy got a sick feeling in her stomach as she wondered if he was going to do something stupid and noble like telling her he couldn’t be with her because it put her in more danger. If he did that, she was going to shoot him with his own gun. The man had told her he loved her, after all.

By the time they got to T’Challa’s home, Shuri had drawn what felt like fifty blood samples before sending Darcy and Bucky off to a guest room. The sun was cresting the horizon as he all but pushed Darcy into the bathroom and told her to shower. She didn’t complain or argue because she felt filthy. Thirty minutes later, she was clean and dry and feeling like a human again in a borrowed T-shirt and panties. She lay on the bed in their guest room and listened to Bucky in the shower. He was much faster than her—in and out within ten minutes. She held her breath as he walked into the room in a pair of boxers, drying his hair with the towel. Darcy desperately wanted him to crawl into bed with her, but she knew there was a good chance he was going to shy away from that. He’d been so quiet and not nearly as affectionate as she’d think a man who’d just confessed his love should be.

“Hey,” she whispered, pulling the covers up to her chin.

“Can I stay?” he asked.

Darcy exhaled the breath she’d be holding. “Yes. _Yes_. Please stay.” When he slipped under the covers with her and settled on his side to look at her profile, Darcy turned to face him and said, “Why would you ask that? You know how I feel about you.”

“You watched me do some ugly things back there. Don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He refused to meet her eyes when he said it.

“Hey,” Darcy said, reaching out and laying a hand on his cheek. This made him shift his gaze from her chin to her eyes. “I’ve never felt safer with anyone in my life as I have with you.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, shifting over and pulling her into his arms.

Darcy closed her eyes and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of soap and _him_. “Yes. I needed this so much. You feel so good.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want you, sweetheart. I’ve always wanted you, even that first day. I was so scared to do this because I knew you were special and I’d end up…”

“Liking me too much?” she asked, smiling against his warm skin.

“Loving you,” he whispered back.

She sighed as he slipped his right hand up the back of her shirt and rubbed circles over her back. She shivered and shifted closer until he was almost completely on his back with her body laying on his left half. Bucky moved his cybernetic arm around her to help her find a more comfortable position and so he could hold her against him.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Bucky said, kissing her shoulder and neck. When he moved his lips up to her jawline, Darcy tilted her head so he kissed her lips. She groaned and kissed him back, running her tongue over his full lower lip.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, too,” she murmured, writhing against him as he initiated another lingering kiss. “Does this mean you aren’t kicking me out?” Darcy asked after she pulled in a breath.

“I wasn’t trying to kick you out. I was just stupid,” he replied.

“Why did we come to Wakanda?”

He lifted the leg she was straddling until his thigh was wedged nicely between her legs, nestled right up against her pussy. Darcy ground down on him as he answered her, “Thought we could have that picnic date by the waterfall and make it for real this time.”

His comment made her head spin and the butterflies in her stomach take flight. “I’d love that,” she told him before leaning down and taking his lower lip between her teeth. Bucky chuckled and turned his head to break her grasp so he could kiss her again.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, “and that day in the cabin when we were waiting for Steve.”

“Same,” Darcy agreed.

He slipped his hands underneath the waistband of her panties so he could grab a bare cheek in each of them. She gasped and pushed down onto his thigh, searching for some kind of friction. “You like that?” he asked.

“I like everything you do,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “I read all those romance novels of yours so I’d know what to do.”

“Uh, I don’t think you needed instruction. You’re a natural.”

Bucky flipped her over and wedged himself between her thighs. With a gentle hand on her hip, he urged her to lift up so he could slip her panties off her. Darcy obliged and also helped him pull the T-shirt over her head. The clothing was tossed to the floor beside the bed as he looked down at her. Darcy forgot to be self-conscious when she saw the look of hunger in his eyes.

He dragged his hands from her shoulders and collarbones down the valley between her breasts. She wiggled and let out a breathy laugh as he touched her stomach and slid his hands around to trace the dip of her waist and flare of her hips. Bucky paused, grabbing onto her hips and grinding himself into her. She could feel his rock hard cock beneath the thin fabric of the boxers he had on. He stopped when she hooked a leg over his hip. Instead of giving her that friction she desperately wanted, he let his hands roam down the outside of her thighs and over her knees. With the lightest touch, he felt her calves and feet with the pads of his fingers.

“You’re so soft,” Bucky whispered, pupils blown wide as his hands moved back up her legs to grip her thighs. There were indentations where his fingers sank into her flesh. “You make me fuckin’ crazy.”

“Thought you didn’t want me,” she confessed, wrapping her legs around him.

Bucky leaned forward, bracing himself on his left arm with its elbow planted on the mattress right next to her head. “I was scared. Thought you might be here for the paycheck and your feelings for me were just confused because of it.”

He dipped his head down to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Darcy buried her fingers in his wet hair, holding him against her. “That’s obnoxious, dude. I know my own mind. When I say I want to be with you, then it isn’t because I think I’m getting my school loans paid off.” She gasped when he grazed her nipple with his teeth. “Tell Tony to keep his money if it makes you feel better. I don’t care.”

Bucky looked up at her, lips wet and eyes dark. “Tony is keeping his money; I’m paying off the damn loans myself. Life ain’t gonna be easy with me, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know. But you’re worth it.”

He tilted his chin up and leaned in to give her a deep, lingering kiss with lips and tongue and teeth. Darcy groaned and tightened her legs around his narrow hips, shamelessly rubbing against him. “Want you so bad,” he whispered, pushing up to he was kneeling before her. With firm but gentle hands, he coaxed her legs off him so he could maneuver enough to get his boxers off. As soon as they sailed off into the floor, he settled himself between her thighs, urging her to wrap her legs around him again.

She did as he’d wordlessly requested, hooking her legs over his hips. She gasped and dug her heels into his ass when he guided his cock deep inside her. “Ahh, fuck. That’s… so…”

Bucky’s laugh was breathless as he fell forward and caught himself on his elbows. “So what?” he asked, smoothing her hair back tenderly.

“Um, take your pick,” she said with a grunt. “Big. Amazing. Toe-curling.” He flexed his hips, pulling out and pushing back in. “Fuuuuck…”

He pressed his forehead to hers and laughed again. His eyes were lit up with happiness, the crow's feet at the corners of them telling her that it was genuine. “Feels so good, doll. So good.” He thrust into her again and again, finding his rhythm. “Wanna keep you in this bed for a week.”

She lifted up to meet his thrusts, the muscles along her walls bearing down on his cock. “Make up... for lost time?” she asked on two breathy exhales.

“Mmm.” His hum sounded like an affirmative.

Darcy opened her mouth to tease him, but he worked his arms under her back and tilted his hips so he could get just a little deeper. “Bucky,” she said, gasping his name. He growled before he kissed her. She could feel his cock and tongue thrusting into her at the same time. Closing her eyes, she could feel him everywhere—his hands on her back, his arms around her, his hips pressed between her thighs, his chest rubbing against her sensitive nipples, his lips and tongue taking her mouth, his cock damn near hitting her cervix each time he bottomed out in her.

She wiggled a hand between their bodies until she had her palm flat against her mound. She was soaked and so was his cock as he pulled out of her and pushed back in, the V between her middle and ring fingers framing it, giving him a little more friction along the shaft when he thrust. “Fuck, Darcy. That… Your hand… You need to stop or I’m gonna come.”

“Come,” she dared him before moving her fingertips up to rub her clit. Realizing what she was doing, Bucky extracted his right hand and brought it down to help her. They fumbled together for a moment until she guided the pad of his middle finger in circles over her swollen button. His hands were a little rougher than her own and the friction was delicious. “So close,” she whispered, arching her back and pushing up into his cock and his skillful hand.

“Let me feel you, sweetheart. Give it to me. Come all over me. Now. Please. Please, come. Come. Come.” His hot breath in her ear as he coaxed her along sent Darcy over the edge. She felt all her muscles tense up as she clamped her teeth together and let out a wordless groan of pleasure.

The wave of euphoria swept her away until she felt like she was floating and there was only Bucky. His rhythm stuttered as he neared his own climax. Darcy blindly reached out grabbing his shoulders, running her nails down his muscled back. “I want you to come inside me,” she told him, still drunk off her own orgasm. “Come for me, Bucky.”

“So close. You’re so hot, doll.” He shoved his face into the pillow under her head and slammed down until he was deep inside her. She could feel the way his cock jumped as he came inside of her. “I love you, I love you,” Bucky whispered in her ear, sounded breathless and content.

“I love you back,” she whispered, soothing him with her hands rubbing mindless circles over his shoulders, upper arms, back, sides. The vibranium shoulder and arm didn’t even seem out of place as she soothed him.

“I can’t believe you’re safe and here with me,” Bucky said when he pushed himself up enough to look down into her face. Gently, he smoothed her hair out across the pillow. “You’re beautiful. You know that, right?”

Darcy wasn’t the type to easily blush, but when he paid her a compliment like that with such naked honesty in his eyes, she couldn’t help the pink that heated her cheeks. “I’m okay,” she said, with a wink.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He ran the tip of his index finger down her nose, tapping the end of it and the little stud in her nostril.

The flash of the ring on his finger caught her eye. Darcy reached up and took his hand in hers. “You’re still wearing your ring.”

“We’re still married.”

She pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “I’m sorry I took mine off. I thought… I thought you wanted space after everything that had happened.”

“I wanted you, but I was scared.”

“You’re not still scared?”

“Nah. Almost losing you helped put it into perspective.”

* * *

**[September 23, 2018, 6:22pm]**

The sun was a few minutes from setting and the pinkish hue it cast reflexed beautifully off the waterfall. Over two months ago when they’d met, they’d concocted a story about how and when Bucky proposed. He’d been the one to tell her it was done at the waterfall during a picnic. And now here they were, weeks later, sitting on a colorful blanket next to the relaxing sound of rushing water. Darcy was wearing borrowed clothes, including an oversized shirt with sleeves. Bucky had on a pair of loose pants like those he’d farmed in and a simple shirt that revealed his chest in a V-neckline.

No one else was around, allowing them to enjoy in privacy the picnic that T’Challa’s chef had prepared. Darcy was stuffed and content. The bruise on her neck was still tender, but Bucky’s kisses seemed to make it feel better. They’d spent most of the day in bed together, sleeping. She’d forgotten how good it felt to sleep next to him, how safe he made her feel. When she’d woken with a gasp from a nightmare that she was back in that concrete cell, he’d wrapped her up in his arms and stroked her hair until she could breathe normally again.

“Thank you for the picnic. It was everything I thought it would be and then some from our little story.”

Bucky stood up and helped her to her feet before folding up the blanket and stowing it in the basket with their uneaten food. Darcy turned in a circle to take in the beauty of Wakanda—the rocky cliff and the lush green foliage and the pure water crashing into the deep blue pool below. When she turned back around with a smile on her face, Bucky was on one knee instead of standing.

“What are you…” Darcy trailed off when she saw the jewelry box in his hand. A beautiful ring was nestled between two velvet cushions. The last of the sunlight glinted off the stone in the center. “Bucky?”

He gave her a nervous smile. “Will you marry me? For real this time?”

All the air left her lungs and she struggled to pull in a breath for a long moment. When she finally figured out how to breathe again, Darcy laughed softly and bent over to press a kiss to his forehead. Bucky tilted his face up to her so she could kiss his lips as well. “Yes, you dork. Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

The ring forgotten for a moment, Bucky stood up and swept her into a hug. Her feet left the ground and he spun her in a circle, kissing her mouth the entire time. “Would you believe I was a little worried you’d say no?”

“Would you believe you’re a little crazy? How the hell was I going to say no to you?” she asked when he put her back on her feet and presented the box to her again.

Carefully, he removed the ring and held out his right hand. She placed hers in his open palm so he could slip the engagement ring onto her finger.

“Bucky, this is too much.”

“It’s not nearly enough,” he replied.

“When did you even have time to buy this?”

He chuckled. “The day you disappeared before I knew you were taken. We’d had that fight and I was sick over it. I couldn’t imagine not coming home to you and… Shuri and I went shopping for a ring before dinner. I called you, but you didn’t answer and then… we found out why you weren’t answering.”

Her chest was so tight she could barely breathe. “And you’ve been carrying it around since then?”

“Yes. I told myself if I found you that I’d ask you as soon as I could. Thought this place might be a little nicer than dropping to a knee in the middle of some HYDRA warehouse in Istanbul, though.”

“You know, this is… This is kinda around the time when we got fake engaged in our story.”

He smiled at her. “Yeah.”

“You know what that means?” she asked.

Bucky took her right hand in his left, interlocking their fingers and pulling her closer so he could cup her cheek in his hand. “What does that mean?”

“I expect you to keep with the fake timeline. Wedding before Halloween,” Darcy said, trying to keep a straight face. She failed when the corners of her mouth curved up into a smile as he laughed softly.

After kissing her softly on the lips, Bucky pressed his forehead to hers and said, “Anything you want, sweetheart. You got time to get hitched in a couple of weeks?”

“Definitely,” Darcy said, pushing up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay, ya'll! I've had a rough day. The Epilogue will be up shortly.


	30. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA, WHOA, WHOA. HAVE YOU READ THE FINAL CHAPTER. IT WAS POSTED JUST A FEW MINUTES BEFORE THIS EPILOGUE. IF YOU'RE STARTING HERE TODAY, THEN YOU MIGHT WANT TO SKIP BACK A CHAPTER AND CATCH UP.

> _”You got a heart so big it could crush this town. And I can’t hold out forever even walls fall down.” -Tom Petty (Walls (Circus))_

**[October 29, 2018, 8:34pm]**

The place was kitschy with a hot pink door and a garish sign that proclaimed it to be a wedding chapel in red block letters, but he didn’t care about any of that. All he cared about was Darcy laughing as she walked down the aisle on the arms of a very terrible Elvis impersonator. The man’s wig was slightly askew, but Bucky didn’t even notice because his eyes were on Darcy and her dress. It was fitted with a low neckline that showed more than a little cleavage and what seemed like miles of flawless skin on her neck, chest, and arms. A belt cinched it tight around her waist before it flared out over her hips and thighs with the hem just brushing her knees. When he was younger, he’d always thought his bride would be in a white dress and their parents would be in the front row. The front row was empty and Darcy’s dress was navy blue with bright pieces of fruit—pineapples and bananas and mangos—printed in a repeating pattern.

She laughed as she approached him with Elvis as her escort. Her gaze shifted back and forth between him and the phone she was holding out at arm’s length. When she got to him, she grabbed onto his hand with her free one and tilted the phone so he could see himself on the screen. Bucky smiled and shook his head just as Elvis took his spot in front of them and began the ceremony.

It was fast, a condensed version of the real deal, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was happy and she was marrying him. Those vows they’d made up a few months ago were dredged to the forefront of his mind as Elvis gave him other vows to repeat—that he would love, honor, and cherish her until death did they part.

“I do,” Bucky readily said, looking her in the eyes as he said it. Her upper teeth sank into her lower lip, but she was still smiling from ear to ear and still holding that phone up and angled down to fit as much into the frame as possible. Bucky pulled her old wedding ring out. It was the same one she’d left on the kitchen counter what felt like ages ago. He slipped it on her right ring finger, pushing it up against the engagement ring he’d given her just over a month ago.

Elvis asked her to make the same vow and she answered so easily and so quickly with her own, “I _absolutely_ do.”

He laughed and took the phone from her as she accepted his ring from Elvis. Bucky had worn it until that morning when she’d insisted he hand it over. Now she put it on his finger while he tried to keep the phone steady.

Elvis made some quip that Bucky didn’t even register because he was too taken by how beautiful Darcy looked and how perfect this elopement had been. He still hated crowds and being the center of attention made him uncomfortable, but this, this was perfect. Her and him and their promises to each other—just like how they’d started out the night they had sat up and made plans for the past in hopes of having a future. Now he couldn’t wait for his future and the past felt like it was miles behind him in another lifetime.

Elvis said something about kissing the bride just as Darcy wrapped her fingers around the phone in his hand. They both held it up and kissed beneath it. Bucky cupped the back of her head in his hand so he could deepen the kiss. When she pulled back, she was all breathless laughs and flushed cheeks. He let go of the phone, giving it back to her as they walked down the aisle, this time hand-in-hand. A pink Cadillac with the top down outside was waiting to take them on a drive up and down the brightly-lit Strip before returning them to their hotel.

Darcy laid her head on his shoulder once they were in the backseat. He watched her fiddle with the phone and finally send the video to a long list of contacts that included all of the Avengers and some of her own friends. He just smiled and looked up at the massive hotels towering above them with their reflective glass and twinkling lights. Within five minutes of her sending the message, his phone was vibrating in the pocket of his leather jacket. Her phone was dinging as messages arrived as well. Darcy tucked the phone away in her little purse and sighed.

“How does it feel?” she asked him.

“Perfect,” he replied, bending down to kiss her lips when she tilted her face up. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing. The best ever. Luckiest girl in the world.” She lifted her chin up and gave him a peck on the lips. “Where do you wanna get dinner?”

“Mmm,” he said, pressing his lips to her ear. “I was thinking I’d have you for dinner and then we’d get room service, but we can go out if you want.”

“Uh, no. Nope. I like your plan. A lot.” She intertwined her fingers with his and looked up at the buildings and the dark night sky. Bucky glanced down at the way her hand looked against the dark metal of the vibranium. When the car got to the end of the glitz and glamor, the driver turned them around and took them to their hotel. They pulled up to the door, and Darcy pulled him inside, seemingly as eager to be alone with him as he was to be with her. A man in a suit with a nametag intercepted them as they walked across the lobby.

“Sir! Ma’am!” When they stopped, he smiled and said, “Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, we’ve moved your belongings to the penthouse suite.” He held out a keycard. “Mr. Stark sends his congratulations.”

“The penthouse?” Darcy asked, accepting the card.

“Courtesy of Mr. Stark. He wishes you a long and happy life together.”

Darcy laughed as Bucky thanked the man and pulled her toward the elevator.

“Wow,” Darcy said. “So, you two have buried the hatchet, yeah?”

“We’ve been working on it,” Bucky said. “I’m sure he did this for you, though.” Pulling out his phone, Bucky checked his messages for the first time since they’d arrived at the wedding chapel. There were texts from everyone congratulating him on his marriage. Steve’s simply read, “I told you so.” What a shit. Tony’s was the last one to arrive and said, “Happy for you, Barnes.” Bucky blinked back the wetness gathering in his eyes as he read all the well wishes from people who had become _friends_.

“Oh my _god_,” Darcy said, stepping out of the private elevator that took them directly to the penthouse suite. “Look at this place.”

It was huge with high ceilings and a wall of windows that gave an unobstructed view of the Strip and the city beyond it. She stepped out of her shoes and walked across the room. He watched the way the hem of her dress brushed against the backs of her knees. It compelled him to put his phone down on the counter and unzip his leather jacket. He shrugged it off and toed off his shoes before stepping on his socks so he could slip them off as well. The view outside was great, but the view inside was even better. He couldn’t wait to get his head up under that flirty little skirt.

She was standing by the wall of windows, looking down at the street far below them, when he grabbed her waist and turned her around. Darcy squealed and steadied her hands on his shoulders as he dropped to his knees. “Bucky!”

He’d spent the past month learning her body from head to toe, so it was easy to reach up under her skirt and pull her panties down without even breaking eye contact. Darcy stepped out of them so he could slide them to the side before he flipped her skirt over his head and eased one of her legs up to hook over his shoulder. The position opened her up for him. Bucky inhaled her musky scent before latching his mouth onto her pussy lips and running his tongue up and down her wet slit. She was always so responsive and ready for him.

Her back hit the glass and her hands came down on his head as he worked her over with his tongue and then with the fingers of his right hand. He could feel her arching her back, opening wider, begging him for release with all those soft gasps and moans that tumbled off her lips when he took her with his mouth. He could do this for hours and never tire of her taste, but Darcy usually begged him to put her out of that sweet misery after just a few minutes.

“Bucky, please,” she said, grinding against his face.

He smiled at the desperation in her voice. Sucking her little clit into his mouth, he pressed two fingers deep inside her. She bucked up, crying out when he curled those fingers in and hit the spot that made her come. The walls of her pussy pulsed as she rocked against his face, crying out her release.

“Fuck,” she muttered. He pulled himself out of her skirt and watched her head fall back and thump on the glass. “My legs are shaky. I don’t think I can walk.”

He laughed as he stood and scoop her up, carrying her across the room and dropping her on the massive king-size bed. She looked like a goddess with her hair in loose curls down her back and the skirt of her dress rucked up to make her almost indecent.

Darcy rolled onto her stomach and said, “Unzip me.” Bucky leaned down and unzipped the back of her dress. While she sat up and wiggled out of it, she added, “Strip.”

The command made his blood run hot. “Yes, ma’am,” he readily agreed, dropping his hands to the buckle of his belt. A few seconds later and he had his jeans and boxers on the floor. His shirt came off easily. She was in the low bed with her legs in the air and her panties around her knees as she slid them off.

“Don’t you dare move,” she warned him before she tossed her panties into the floor.

“I wanna be inside you,” he said, clenching and unclenching his fists.

She just gave him that devilish little smile of hers and sat up to scoot to the edge of the bed. He watched her sit there with her knees wide apart and curl her index finger toward herself in a command for him to come closer.

He swallowed and closed the distance between them. Bucky stepped between her knees, holding his cock tightly in his fist. Darcy leaned forward and licked the head, making his eyes roll back in his head. “Fuck, doll.”

“Let go,” she demanded, taking him in her hand when he released his cock for her. She gave him a stroke before she guided half his length into her mouth. He stood there and watched her red lips wrapped around the thickness of his cock and tried not to come just from the erotic sight.

She was very enthusiastic about blow jobs. In fact, Bucky was convinced that she had her own personal game that involved seeing how crazy she could make him with her mouth alone. He couldn’t complain since he reaped the rewards of that game. Darcy hummed as she sucked on him, working his length with her fist and her mouth. Before he knew it, she’d whipped him into a frenzy enough to have his fist gripping a handful of her hair and his head thrown back as he jerked his hips in time with her strokes.

“Gotta stop, sweetheart. Gonna come in your mouth.”

She popped him out of her mouth and kissed the tip of his cock. Bucky glanced down to see her twirl her tongue around the head before she said. “Do it.” The flash of challenge in her eyes sent desire racing through his bloodstream like fire. It wasn’t long before he growled her name and came hard and fast into her heavenly mouth.

“You,” he said, using his hand in her hair to pull her off his softening cock. A bead of his come clung to her lower lip. The way she flicked her tongue out to catch it made him want to throw her on the bed and fuck her until she couldn’t walk. “You are in so much trouble, doll.”

She laughed and turned to crawl up the bed. He was right after her, grabbing Darcy’s hips and flipping her onto her back. “What are you gonna do?” she teased.

“Oh, you know what I’m going to do,” he said, spreading her legs and wedging his body between her thighs. “Just give me a minute to recover.”

She laughed. “You’re pretty spry for an old man, you know?”

“I got this wife who just drives me crazy,” he whispered, scattering kisses over her chest and neck. She wiggled beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist. After a couple lingering kisses that involved tongues and her biting his lower lip—which always drove him mad with lust—Bucky reached down and guided his cock inside her.

Darcy sighed in contentment as he bottomed out in her tight pussy. She did something with her muscles when she lifted her hips up that felt like a warm, wet vice on around his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Give me a break.”

Giggling, she put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He rocked into her slowly, their foreheads pressed together. He didn’t look away from her gorgeous eyes for a second as they made love slowly. When he found himself on the precipice of coming again, a well-placed thumb on her clit had her calling out his name. He came after her, this time deep inside her. She had one of those birth control devices, but he fantasized that one day they’d have kids. He wasn’t even sure if he could, but he could see having them with her. One day, maybe.

“I love you,” Darcy whispered before kissing his lips tenderly. “Hey, remember when you said that my romance books weren’t reality?”

“Mmm, hmm,” he said.

“Well, you were right. Real-life is so much better.”

Bucky laughed and pressed another kiss to her soft lips. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took the time to read and kudo and comment. I appreciate you all so much. The enthusiasm of this fandom is what has kept me around for these three (almost!) years. Writing for you all is a privilege and a pleasure.
> 
> I don't have any plans for a long fic. I may write a short Halloween or Holiday-themed one like the Wintershock Christmas shortie I did a year or two ago, but I can't make any promises. I typically take a writing hiatus during the 4th quarter of the year because work is hell during those three months. If I don't see you all before the end of the year, then Happy Holidays and Happy New Year and see you in 2020.


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